


Blood Path

by BooksForLifeBowties



Category: 7 Days to Die (Video Game), Youtubers, gaming - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Horror, Survival, Survival Horror, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooksForLifeBowties/pseuds/BooksForLifeBowties
Summary: Four men wander the ruins of a zombie apocalypse. Will they be able to survive? Based off of their 7DTD series.[Lordminion777] [Patrckstatic] [JPW03] [Garuku Bluemoon]
Kudos: 3





	1. ɪ

Silently Wade crouched on the ground trying to be stealthy. It was essential to stay quiet. Injured, it’d be harder to run away from the animated, decaying corpses. At least they were distracted by the smoking car. The vehicle was falling apart and was damaged from previous waves of zombies’ days before. It hadn’t been in great condition to begin with but had provided a fast trip on the road. When the engine started smoking Wade knew he’d rather risk walking instead of trusting a car that could explode. So, jumping from the automobile he watched it roll away.

  
  
A few zombies were on the hood clawing at the windows as others started gathering. Luckily, no resources were lost. Nothing left to collect; Wade wondered how he was going to get back to the house before dark. He stood on a single dirt road, either end stretching for miles; there wasn’t a town close by. The only option was to cut through the woods. If he got stranded out in the path Wade would be defenseless against the zombies. Finding shelter would be difficult if that happened. Trees however, would give decent cover. Out in the open anyone could easily get ambushed by the dead and other survivors. All I have is an axe for a weapon. In the backpack were some bandages, a can of food, and a flashlight. The woods would be a difficult obstacle course to navigate through, especially with a limp. The wound burned with fire and itched like crazy. Wade was glad that the alcohol would prevent any infections, after all, without his legs he’d be zombie meat for sure.

  
  
Every few paces Wade would jump at every sound. Zombies would slow down here but bandits wouldn’t. In fact, they could use the trees, boulders, and landscape for their advantage. An arrow, bullet, or trap could stop his journey completely. Looters were the most dangerous and aggressive besides the desperate. Far from home or any familiar faces, fear tore apart any courage Wade had left. Heart pounding, legs shaking, always alert, there was no time to admire nature.

  
  
Orange sunset slowly poured into a dark blue sky like oil consuming the horizon. Wade collapsed on his sleeping bag after eating the last can of food. Sleep tugged at his eyes but fear of being attacked unguarded overpowered it. With some water he washed his wounds and inspected the injury. The long scar on his leg from the crash would heal soon. Stomach growling, he realized that it has been two days of the apocalypse and he had almost no supplies. In the cold dark house he sat alone scared of starvation and pain. What if this was the end? Death wasn’t standing close yet but he felt the cold rain of dread trickle down his senses. Wade at least hoped that he wouldn’t be eaten alive. There was no way he’d allow it. Seeing those rotten figures surround and start biting him, tearing at the flesh, and the pain that would consume him was terrifying to think about. Even if I don’t go far, I’ll fight every step. But now, there was nothing to do. Not wanting to waste time or energy barricading the house he remained still, and by a few minutes began to doze.

  
  
A loud bang startled him from sleep. Wood panels that had been on the windows before Wade had entered the house had been broken. Staying close to the ground he carefully went down the stairs.  
No growls or screaming.  
Someone was shuffling around the kitchen. Whoever it was, was looking through the cabinets in a hurry.

  
  
Hidden in the shadows Wade hesitated to confront the intruder. What if there was were more people? They could be surrounding the house. For a moment he wondered if he should let them search the place and hide until they were gone? It was empty here anyway.  
  
No, he couldn’t do that.  
  
If the bandits investigated they’d know Wade was camping in this dump. It’d be hard to find him. Escaping was also pointless because the limp would weigh him down. Besides, if the thugs decided to live here Wade would be stuck outside. Shelter was more important than food; it was a great repellant against the zombies who were silent and almost invisible in the night.

  
  
Taking a step Wade inched towards the trespasser. Their back was turned. Please don’t let any of the floorboards creak, he thought. Don’t give my position away! Just as Wade prepared to swing his froze. Recognizing familiar tattoos and features of a friend, his voice cracked with shock. “Patrick?”  
The man’s body transformed into a rigid post.  
Seconds past and the guy refused to face the other. Both men were afraid to speak from disbelief. Was this real or was survival starting to take a toll on their imagination? Was reality tricking them?  
“Wade?” Patrick asked with uncertainty in his voice. “Is that you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Thank God.” Shedding tears Patrick hugged his friend.  
Wade smiled sadly seeing how broken down both of them were. But, they were happy to finally see a companion. “I missed…missed you so much!” He smiled at Wade and chuckled. “I’m sorry I broke into your house. I’m really hungry and I haven’t eaten a lot for the last two days.”  
“Same Pat. I guess we’re both desperate for food. C’mon I can fix those injuries. Let’s talk and get some rest.”

  
  
In the attic Wade helped patch up Patrick’s wounds. Not that there was much to inspect. A few cuts and bruises but his face told the most about his travels so far. The usually warm and bright green orbs were now dull and colorlessly bland, a mask of dirt and dust clogged the friendly handsome features, and his body sagged with a lack of confidence. To describe it shortly, Patrick looked like he had gotten into a bad fight. Wade doubted he could scrape up any energetic personality left right now. He didn’t even look salty, just empty and lost. 

  
  
Wade laughed trying to lighten the mood but it came out crestfallen and lifeless. “You look bad Pat.”  
“Hah. You do too buddy.” He responded with a gloomy smile.  
“Well, jumping out of a car and blindly navigating through a forest can really ruin a good day, especially in an apocalypse.”  
“Are you by yourself?”  
“Yeah and barely surviving.”  
Unsure of what to say they stayed silent for a while. There was so much to talk about but with low enthusiasm, low supplies, and the pain from their lacerations, conversation seemed pointless.

  
  
“I’d offer some food but…”  
“It’s okay.”  
“How’d you get to Ohio? California is far away.”  
Patrick shrugged. “I had an old map I used and drove here. The highways were actually clear surprisingly. Gar and I-”  
“Gar’s alive?!”  
“Yes, he’s in a secluded part of town. I went to scavenge items but most of the other houses were empty.”  
“How did you guys make it? You’ve had to run into something along the way right?”  
“We…we eventually did. Mostly we drove and our plan was to never stay in a place too long. Gar was afraid of thugs. So, not to be followed we slept when it was bright and moved when it got dark.”  
“Okay, but can I ask how you two found each other?”  
Patrick’s eyes filled with emotion. Hurt and shock brightly reflected in his green pools.

  
  
“I was on my way to visit him because I found this really cool amusement park that opened up. I bought tickets and was excited to tell him about it. But then I got to the city. Everything was chaotic and crazy. A large crowd of people were running around, fire was spreading from buildings to the streets, and looters broke into various stores constantly.”  
“What did you do then?”  
“When I saw…when I realized that zombies were attacking people I knew I had to find Gar. Driving through the city I couldn’t believe all the destruction I saw at first. Then out of nowhere zombies jumped onto my car and I leapt out before they broke through the glass. It was…” Patrick lost words for describing the scene. He remembered their frenzy, their growling, the way their limbs scratched at the windows, and their grotesque faces. It was very inhuman the way they were rotting but completely functioning at a terrifying speed. “By the apartments I came across a construction vehicle, a crane I think, that had collapsed. Here, it was quiet. I guess alarms hadn’t started yet.”  
“Wow, I can’t imagine…” Wade shook his head. “I never explored the cities because I was afraid of large groups.”  
“I looked around desperately for Gar and was about to run into the building to look for him when I heard loud banging to my right. I heard shouts then and froze up. Bandits. Four. Gar was tossed out from the large storefront window and they circled him. They had crowbars, bats, and pipes. I think some had knives too.”  
Holy shit, Wade thought. I’d frightened to deal with that situation.

  
“Gar fought back and I could tell he was scared. He was swinging a hockey stick and yelling at the thugs. I had picked up a shard of glass from the broken window and leapt on one of them. The others instantly turned to attack me but Gar dove in and kept them back. Two on two the last of them ran away. It was kind of funny,” Pat said with a bitter laugh. “If they stuck around we would’ve lost but I guess they were assuming I had more friends close by.”  
“Was Gar okay?”  
“Wade when I saw him…I…I hugged him. I was relieved that he was alive even though he looked worn out. He looked scared, dazed, and confused but okay. Together we found another car and left. I took a pipe and he took a bat. You’d be amazed how many hits some zombies can take, the weapons we had got damaged easily.”  
“It must’ve been tough. I’m glad to hear that you guys are okay.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Did Gar explain how he got caught up in that?”  
Patrick laughed, Wade was happy to see his friend smile again even if it was for just a moment. “Gar was buying a new controller when they started breaking in.”  
“Insane.”

  
  
“But, I do have some great news.” Patrick said after a moment of digesting the heavy story that had been told.  
“Finally, I was wondering when the apocalypse would get less shitty.”  
Patrick grinned. “I hid a car around here. Also, Gar’s at camp with Dante making it into a temporary base. It’s a shabby gas station but decent for now.”  
“Is it stronger than this house?”  
“It’s kinda cramped but livable. Gar should be modifying it.”  
“Great! We can leave in the morning!”

  
  
Growling from outside made the two jump. Through the window they could see eight zombies inspecting the house. Hidden by the darkness Wade and Patrick were able to stay in the attic unseen. “That’s a lot of zombies…”  
“As long as we’re still and don’t make any loud noises we should be fine.”  
“Are you prepared to fight though? I have no weapons.”  
“Don’t worry I have an idea. For now we’ll sleep in shifts and when daylight rises we can get out of here.”

* * *


	2. ɪɪ

Gar paced around the garage of the gas station. Counted provisions lay organized in stacks leaving the survivor to reshape the base. With everything put away and arranged Gar wondered where Patrick was. Earlier, he had tried to convince him to stay. But, Patrick had insisted on getting resources. “I should’ve gone with him! What if he’s injured?” Gar paused and took a deep breath. “No, I should trust Patrick. I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything too risky.” Focusing, he observed the changes he had made to the garage. Metal had been lying around and was very easy to melt and alter. Reinforcing the structure of the gas station had been easy. Someone had even left a pickaxe in one of the chests. Who would leave such a tool at a gas station Gar would never know, but it was handy. Metal was a sturdy material.

  
  
Dante sniffed one of the wooden chests and whined. Of course, Gar couldn’t forget that one issue. Sighing he petted the small corgi. “Our food is low. I have to guard the base but,” at a desk he unrolled a map. “There’s a farmland further east. Its a few miles away but maybe the place will have food. If we starve our strength will decrease until we can’t move anymore. No food, no way to keep surviving.” Taking the pickaxe he left the gas station to scout the farmland. Dante sat and watched Gar leave. “Guard the place, okay? Good boy.” Checking his watch, he sighed. Hopefully it’ll be a short trip. Running, he avoided streets and took a small road towards the windy fields further away from the crowded city.

  
  
It was a hot day. Gar sipped water not wanting to waste any. Water was harder to find than minerals to build materials with. An old barn stood out among a large cornfield with common red and white paint. Dry withered grass crunched beneath Gar’s feet as he stealthily crossed the land. Besides animal bones and hay the place was deserted.  
Creaking wood eerily groaned in the wind. Sometimes the panels would slam loudly against the hollow barn’s interior, creating a similar tune to drums. Carefully looking around (and hoping not to step into a trap) Gar found a chest. A smile broke his rigid, serious features.

  
  
Corn. Fresh from the farm. Collecting all the food Gar quickly left the barn. He was so happy he almost yelled in triumph. This was a great victory even though it was a small one. Anything that was useful would help him stay alive. He suspected a trap, since it had been so easy to find such a treasure but part of him didn’t care. Now, to escape before anyone else showed up. The wind sharply cut across the field moving the corn stalks back and forth. At first, Gar heard a strange sound but ignored it. A few minutes later it got louder and he realized that it was a group of zombies standing in the corn stalks. He dove into another patch and observed the area waiting for an ambush. However, when he spotted them they were clearly focused on something else.  
“Hah! Stay back!”  
“J.P?” Gar whispered in astonishment.  
Jay Par was combating the zombies with a wooden club. They only stumbled back from the strikes. Running up to them Gar swung the pickaxe. Two of the corpses collapsed as blood rained onto the field. Turning around he struck the other four feeling like a mighty knight. 

  
  
Examining the dead zombies Gar sighed. “That was close. Thankfully I don’t see any others walking over here. J.P are you-”  
Jeremy was lying on the ground hissing in pain. His leg was twisted and there were various scars and bruises. His face was a storm of agony. The wooden club was destroyed leaving the injured man with just a backpack.  
“Are you okay?!” Gar asked, leaning down to check on his friend.  
“Is that you Gar?”  
“Yes. I’ll help you. I found a place to stay. C’mon let’s get you out of here,” lifting J.P up Gar carried him arm over shoulder, balancing so they wouldn’t fall over. “There’s no time to talk.” Together they slowly hopped back to the gas station.

  
  
A fire soothed their desperation and worries for a short time. The corn that had been gathered was now cooking and the thought of a decent meal made Gar’s stomach growl. It didn’t have seasoning but it was better than nothing. J.P was recovering in the extra sleeping bag however, Gar watched him suspiciously. He still didn’t know if Jay Par had been bitten.  
Besides corn, Gar had decided to make tea. The substance created warmth and healed but it could still never replace bandages or medical equipment. Gar sighed. No matter how much he planned another obstacle always appeared. “Where are you Pat?” He asked curling up and feeling a pit of loneliness in his gut. “How am I going to survive without you?”

  
  
Jeremy sat up suddenly startled. “Where am I?”  
“It’s okay J.P we’re safe from zombies here. Your leg is twisted and you have a lot of injuries-”  
“Oh my God Gar I’m so happy to see you! Wait, my leg is twisted?”  
“I fixed everything the best I could but I don’t think you can go far for a couple of days.”  
“I’m so confused…”  
“Do you remember? I found you surrounded by zombies in a corn field.”  
J.P shook his head still trying to glue the foggy memories back together. “A little. I know that I fell and you rescued me.”

  
“Six ambushed you and I killed them.”  
Jeremy’s face glowed brightly. “You saved me Gar! Thanks!” Taking a deep breath he inspected his wounds.   
“I used the rest of our medical supplies to heal you. None of them were infected.”  
J.P smiled. “No bites.”  
Gar returned the grin, delighted to see another friend again. Right now, even the apocalypse couldn’t damage their cheerfulness. 

  
  
“It’s almost sunset.”  
“Do you know how many days its been?”  
“Two.” Gar stood up and grabbed some cups. “I’m cooking corn and I have tea if you want some.”  
“Great! I’m starving!”  
Gar laughed. “So am I. It won’t be much though, sorry.”  
J.P shrugged. “I’m sure we can find more food later. While I heal I can help improve the base. Also,” searching his backpack he gave Gar packets of seeds. “I found these.”  
“Amazing! We can plant the corn seeds when we find a better home.”  
“We’re not staying here?”

  
Gar shook his head. “The city is too cramped. Zombies could easily overwhelm us in this place. I wanna move to the mountains, it’ll be colder but it’ll have better resources. Fresh meat, trees for wood, rocks for weapons and building material all that stuff.”  
“Okay. I’m sticking with you obviously.” J.P smiled when he sipped some of the tea. The silence when traveling alone had gotten to him a bit but he was glad Gar was here. Instead of constantly looking out for zombies he could talk and relax, almost like old times.

  
  
Dante was lying by the fire enthusiastically eating corn like Gar and J.P. After the meal they casually drank more tea. Everything was easygoing now but they still dreaded the hordes that eventually showed up at nights. It was rare but large crowds in darkness, zombies were almost unstoppable.  
“So, how did you get to Ohio?”  
“I took a train. Wade and I were planning to go rock climbing. We wanted a challenging thing to do this year, and Wade suggested some cool places to try before doing the real thing. But then, you know, zombies.”  
“Right.”  
“I got lost but caught a train to Ohio. These guys though really saved my butt. They were totally calm about it too. Even as the zombies jumped onto the train, you should’ve seen it Gar!” J.P mimicked explosion sounds before laughing. “Throwing Molotovs at them it was like an action movie! They gave me directions, a compass, and some supplies. What about you?”  
Gar’s smile dropped.

He explained their story and Jay Par nodded his head. “I’m glad that Pat is with you but don’t worry Gar. I know Pat will be back in no time. We just have to be patient.” However, both of them felt a sense of doubt. Jeremy tried to deflect the doubt with assurance; after all, Patrick was smart. He was the group’s smith and could make tools out of nothing if he needed to. Gar though, didn’t look convinced. But, trying to be brave he planned for the future. “When we collect enough supplies we’ll leave the city.”  
“I guess a gas station isn’t the best place to stay.” J.P agreed.  
“Yeah, the only valuable thing here is medical supplies and steel from buildings but there isn’t much room for movement. Bandits could easily break everything if they have better tools and weapons.”  
“Anywhere you plan on checking before we leave?”

  
“There’s a hospital south of here,” Gar explained as he pointed at a map. “Backtracking north there’s an arena of sorts? Past that there’s barren land. Further ahead are some mountains or hills. The rocky terrain will provide a better defense. It’s higher up, safe from floods and ambushes.”  
“Perfect!”  
Gar stared into the fire deep in thought. Maybe tomorrow would be better than the last two days. “Now, we wait for Patrick to return. It’ll give us time to plan out how to navigate a way into the hospital.”  
“Right, let’s work hard! What’re the details so far?” J.P asked, sitting next to Gar to look at the map.  
“Well, first…”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The people that J.P talked about are a reference to the L4D2 characters who helped him catch a train to his destination.


	3. ɪɪɪ

Glass shards rained down on the zombies below. Heavy furniture, lamps, chairs, tables, and paintings landed on the army on the ground. Distracted by the crashing noise the zombies inspected the broken objects, allowing Wade and Patrick to slip out the other door. “This way.” Crawling through the shrubs they found the car.  
  
Something followed them, stumbling out the bush, and they turned around immediately to find a zombie.

  
  
Without hesitation Wade swung the axe at it and then quickly jumped into the vehicle as the engine started. Even after a few miles it stayed silent. From fight or tiredness nobody was sure. Maybe they wanted a peaceful moment in the quiet atmosphere, away from the tense situations, from the chaos of survival. It would never last long but the few hours gifted were spent gratefully. 

  


  
Recovering from the fresh bewilderment of there being a real zombie apocalypse, Patrick impatiently tapped his fingers on the door. It was a familiar tune from a show he loved. “I’m hungry. Tell me a story Wade. Keep my mind off of food.”  
“Um, I can tell you how I survived so far?”  
“Okay.”  
“I was in my apartment ready to stream when I realized what day it was.”  
“Tuesday?”  
“No Pat, Monday. I was supposed to go get camping supplies. When I left the store and was driving on the high way I saw a bad crash. Twenty cars flipped on their sides, five completely rolled on their roofs, and people abandoning their cars. People…people were being chased. They had nowhere to run. The zombies were everywhere Pat. I knew I couldn’t go back home so I drove away. I decided to stay away from cities because they might be filled with zombies.”

  
“It must’ve been hard…” Patrick’s eyes flickered with sympathy and pain.  
“I didn’t know where to go. I was scared to even explore the woods. I drove until the car ran out of fuel. It was terrifying, not knowing which places were infected and which ones weren’t.”  
“Did you run into any towns that were clear of zombies?”  
“No. All of them were empty, strangely.”  
Patrick shrugged. “Maybe a horde had been there earlier and everyone had to run.”

  
“I don’t know. But I luckily found some stations abandoned on the road. I was able to stay alive that way.”

  
  
Parking the car between two buildings Patrick and Wade got out and headed towards the gas station. Suddenly Patrick stumbled and fell. Surprised Wade caught him. He became frantically worried about the other’s health. “I got you Pat.”  
“Sorry,” he smiled. “I’ve been feeling sick for a few days now.”  
“You collapsed!”  
“I’m fine Wade.”  
The tall man sighed. Maybe courage would be enough to keep them alive until they found food. He knew Patrick didn’t want to admit that he was too weak to continue. Both of them started to feel the physical damage of starvation and lack of rest. Patrick needed sleep, food, and water immediately. However, supporting him to the next location was the only way Wade could help him now.  
  
Passion flared inside Wade.  
  
He’d keep his friends alive no matter what.  
  
Arm over shoulder, Wade carried Patrick to the building. “C’mon Pat we got this.”

  
  
A few feet from the gas station rain began to fall lightly. Mist enclosed the horizon as the drops hit the metal roof. Cold wind struck the pair as they scanned the area around them. Wade paused, fearing what they would face behind the door.  
There weren’t many options left.  
Patrick couldn’t fight much longer and Wade didn’t have much energy either. Hunger was starting to gnaw at the other senses. Everything felt dull and slow.

  
  
Darkness overwhelmed the light. The cramped space was difficult to navigate. Besides a small entrance, a lamp, a short shelf, and a sofa decorated the room. Another metal door led to the garage. When it shot open Wade screamed in terror.  
“Oh my God! Patrick?! Wade?!”  
“Gar!”  
“Holy shit! Pat’s hurt!”  
“Help me carry him I’m losing my strength to stand.” They gently put their friend on a sleeping bag and examined Patrick in concern.

  
“I’m okay guys,” he chuckled but it came out cracked and dry. Trying to give a sign he was okay Patrick waved his arms. But, every action was weak and took great effort. Gar shuffled pots around noisily and started cooking a meal for them. “No you’re not! Why didn’t you tell me?!”  
“We had almost nothing to eat. I wasn’t going to take your small ration of food.”  
“I wouldn’t have let you starve Pat! I would’ve searched for more-”  
“And put yourself in danger for me? No way.”  
“Gar, Pat-”  
“Not now Wade!”  
Gar’s harsh tone made Wade flinch. He knew Gar didn’t mean to be mad. Wade understood how hard it must be trying to take care of everyone. Unable to dissolve the tension Wade decided to look around the base.

  
  
By the campfire he saw a figure but couldn’t read any of the features. For a moment he assumed the worst. ‘Please don’t tell me that Gar and Patrick have turned cannibal. Is that a dead body?’  
Wade sighed in relief. It was a person and they were alive. Dante was curled up by them and wagged his tail when he saw the tall man. The person stirred, rolled over, and their eyes opened.  
  
A smile appeared on J.P’s face.  


  
He laughed in disbelief. “No way. I must be-is it really you?”

  
“J.P?”  
Sitting up slowly as if stunned, Jay Par’s jaw dropped. His blue eyes locked onto Wade’s searching for a mirage or a trick. Then, they sparked with warmth. “Its Wade!”  
“I’m surprised to see you guys too. I’m kina hungry-”  
J.P hugged Wade, pulling the tall man close. “I never thought I’d see you again! I’m…I’m so happy!” He said, amazed.  
“What happened to us?” Wade asked. “Days ago we were laughing, joking, and playing videogames.” After a moment he smiled. “I’m sure we can fix things though, repair ourselves, get stronger, and survive.”  
Gar placed bowls of corn and cups of tea at their feet. He stared into Wade’s eyes sadly. Gar’s eyes were puffy from tears. “I’m sorry for-”  
Wade pulled everyone in for a hug. Tears fell down his face and somehow he felt sadness and happiness overwhelm his soul. “I’m just glad to see you all alive. If any of you had gotten bitten or died I don’t know what I’d do.”  
“Aw Wade, you’re being so cheesy right now.”  
The tall man chuckled. “Shut up Gar.”  
Everyone laughed, enjoying the small moment of reuniting with friends in the apocalypse.

  
  
“All this adventuring makes it feel as if we’ve spent a year in an apocalypse, not two days.” J.P said after all the guys had explained their stories.   
“Adventuring?” Patrick asked with a yawn.  
“But now we have time to focus on what to do next.” Gar said.  
“We’ve made it this far,” Wade agreed. “At least we can rest and heal.”  
“It’s going to be tough, but with four people getting supplies should be easy. Groups will be less likely to ambush us too.” J.P added.  
“Anywhere specific we’re going before we leave?” Wade asked.  
“The hospital. There should be tons of medical equipment; those are needed the most right now.” Gar stated holding up a map. “J.P and I have already drafted a plan.”  
“Okay. But, who’s going to take first watch?”  
“I will,” Gar got up and stood by the desk. “I still want to add to the plan. We’re low on food still and there are multiple stores in the city to check out.

* * *


	4. ɪᴠ

“Alright, if we ration the corn we’ll have enough for three days.” Gar said measuring the last of the resources. “The only problem is, is that Patrick is sick and J.P is injured.”  
“I feel better Gar, really.”  
“No, you could faint again.”  
“Please, you need my help. I can gather more stuff.” Patrick protested.  
“What about J.P? Leaving one person alone-injured no less- is dangerous. You need to look out for each other.” Wade said.  
Patrick frowned. “Am I that weak?”  
“No Pat, we’re just worried-” Gar was interrupted by Patrick who stood up.  
“I’m going with you! I won’t sit around and do nothing when I can keep you guys safe! Numbers are better in a city.”  
“But Jeremy’s injured-”  
“Don’t worry Wade,” Jay Par smiled, supporting himself with the hockey stick Gar had found. “I’m brave. And Dante can protect me.” He leaned down to pet the short dog. “Can’t you Dante?”  
The corgi barked proudly.

  
Gar sighed. “Fine.”  
“What’s the plan?”  
“Look for food and minerals, see if we can gather any information on the hospital. On the second day we go to the building and gather more supplies. Third day we leave. I don’t want to stay longer than necessary. I have a bad feeling about this city.”

* * *

  
  
  
“Nothing in this house.” Wade said. Gar crossed it out on the map. Keeping their voices down they pointed out any dangers as they walked through roads and houses. Stealthily they avoided zombies that stood in the multiple paths. Amazingly, they had terrible hearing. Gar estimated you could stand at least twelve to fifteen inches from a couple of zombies (five inches if you wanted a challenge) and none of them would notice. However, even if Wade, Gar, and Patrick could sneak up on them they chose to ignore the corpses. Killing one attracted the others if anything but a knife was used.

  
  
“All I got was some pills and water.” Gar grumbled. “From that store.”  
“At least Patrick is getting a lot of stone, wood, and metal.”  
“Whoa.” Wade froze to look at the various apartments that had previously looked simple and a little worn down. Now, all of them were falling apart and decaying like the zombies around the city. Broken windows, blood tossed across their stone surfaces, and torn banners written with morbid messages for the living. A lot of them were either asking to be saved or warning others to escape the place. 

  
“There should be a restaurant just couple miles away.”  
Wade pointed to an apartment. “Are you willing to risk going through a maze of floors to get there?”  
“It’d be a shortcut. I’d rather not stay out in the open.”  
“Guys! I got some flares!” Patrick grinned. “And a lot of these cars have gears, wires, and scrap metal!”  
“Great! Who knew construction sites could be useful?”  
“Where are we going next?” Patrick asked.  
“Gar wants to go to the apartment. It should lead us to a restaurant quickly.”  
“Are you up to go?”  
Patrick ran towards the building. “I feel fine! Let’s go guys!”

  
  
Climbing up seven flights of stairs they found nothing at first. Warily they remained silent. Sometimes Wade, Patrick, and Gar would run into barricades made of furniture. Springing through the crazy obstacle course they landed into a different hall. Deeper into the apartment they saw zombies. Most of them were dead. After another four floors up everyone hid by the steps. “This floor is crowded with zombies!” Wade whispered. “What do we do?” He asked, staring at the shifting forms in horror.   
“I see more than twenty.” Gar said.  
“Single file and don’t make a sound.” Patrick stated.

  
  
Gar stood in front of the line, knife ready if any corpses jumped them. Patrick stayed in the middle with pick-axe in hand. Wade protected the back holding his axe. Timing had to be perfect otherwise it was all over. Running back would be pointless since the zombies could sprint fast and catch up to them. They could only go towards the elevator. Stepping lightly they watched the zombies warily as the dead swayed side to side in the slim hallway. Their grotesque figures twitched and every time one moved an inch the men immediately stood still. Rooted to the ground they were afraid to alert the zombies. Left, right, stop; that’s how the pattern would go. Finally, they made it to the elevator. Wade waved at them a signal that he would guard them as they opened the door.  
  
After a few minutes the machine made a loud ping.

  
  
Zombies raced towards them angrily, teeth flashing in the sunlight. “Hurry up guys!” Wade yelled swinging the axe. Since it was so crowded, when one zombie was struck the others behind collapsed. However, the zombies kept standing and attacking full power. With no room to fight Wade and the others knew they’d only last a few more seconds.

  
  
The elevator doors snapped open and the men jumped inside. Gar pressed a button and spun around to stab a zombie in the eye. As the door slowly closed Patrick and Wade fought the multiple zombies crowding at the entrance. Claws swiped viciously and feet clumsily stumbled to get into the elevator. Together, all of them combated the zombies with their weapons until the doors finally shut with a loud clang.  


  
Out of breath everyone leaned against the cold walls, staring at the blood on the floor. Fresh drops of blood hit the tiled ground Patrick looked up in shock. “Wade you’re-”  
“I’m okay,” he wheezed. “Just a few scratches.”  
“Wade…got hurt?” Gar asked still worn-out. Recovering, they instantly started helping him. Gar took out a jar of water and poured some on the wounds. Wade flinched from the pain, feeling fire flood the scars. Patrick ripped a strip of cloth from his plaid shirt and wrapped the makeshift bandage around the injuries. Wade smiled, feeling warmth in his heart. He was grateful to have such kind friends. “Thank you.”  
They grinned, their faces glowing brightly through fatigue.  
“Of course, you saved me Wade. It’s the least I can do for you.”  
“Friends never abandon each other,” Gar chuckled. “Especially in an apocalypse.”

  
  
  
  
“I never thought that there’d be that much left,” Wade couldn’t help but drool. His stomach also growled. “I see so much food in that store!”  
“Stop,” Gar stuck out an arm to block the others from rushing in. Shadow figures flickered by the glass entrance. “Zombies.”  
“How do we clear it out?” Patrick asked.  
“Carefully.” Gar replied. Putting a finger to his lips he motioned for Wade and Patrick to follow him. Finding a ladder they climbed onto the roof. An iron panel lay in the middle and together they lifted the object up and put in to the side. All three looked down seeing shelves and shelves of food. “Okay, so now what do we do?” Gar whispered, trying to think of a plan.  
Patrick took out a flare and winked. “I got this!” Dropping the flare it fell onto a table, the red smoke and sparking light distracting the zombies. Running to the doors they saw every zombie had their backs turned.

  
  
One hit a shelf when Gar stabbed it with a knife. Wade hooked three with his axe while Patrick stood guard; pick-axe ready if any strayed from the group.  
“Ugh, zombie blood. Stinks.” Wade said, pinching his nose. Evading the pile of dead zombies he inspected the rest of the place. “Just bathrooms over here.”  
Gar looked around. “I think all the zombies are gone.”  
“Good. Let’s search the place.”  
“Boys,” Patrick grinned as he stood by the shelves full of food. “I think we hit the jackpot!”

  
  
  
  
J.P sighed in frustration. Patrick had left instructions on how to craft items but he was having trouble. “I can’t make the simplest med-kit. I guess I need a chemistry table.”   
Dante whined sensing the man’s distress. The corgi sniffed Jeremy’s injured leg and lay down. Limping over to the chests Jay Par scanned for more crafting items. “I hope Gar doesn’t mind if I use the rest of the herbs and cloth.” Studying the paper J.P created some bandages and cleaning alcohol.  
  
Dante growled suddenly and J.P stared at the door in fear.

  
  
At first he heard nothing. Then, loud footsteps and voices rang out clear outside, surrounding the gas station. Jeremy flinched when he shot up from the chair, leg twitching in pain.   
Was it a horde?  
No, it was too chaotic, too clumsy and careless.  
“Bandits,” J.P gasped. “What do I do?! I’m outnumbered! I don’t have much time!” Eyes flashing around the place for a solution they landed on the supplies on the table. Hastily he put together a Molotov.

  
  
A window shattered at the front entrance and Dante started barking. “B-Be b-brave.” Jay Par whispered, shaking in fear.   
“I hear a dog!”  
“So? Just kill it!”  
“What if its another group?”  
“This’ll be easy just rush ‘em!”  
Heart pounding J.P waited, arm raised.  
  
When the door opened he tossed the Molotov.

  
  
Flames destroyed the ambush. Men screamed as the fire spread. Limbs thrashed around trying to dodge the fire but the blaze only grew. An arrow shot through the heat grazing J.P’s arm as it flew past, and he shouted in pain. Staying alert he saw a bandit run towards him with a bow drawn. Before he could fire the next arrow Dante jumped up and bit the thug’s arm. With the hockey stick Jay Par hit the guy’s hands and the man instantly dropped the weapon. Striking his knees the bandit fell on the ground rolling from the extreme pain. Blindly swiping at J.P the guy finally lost his patience and jumped at him, and started punching the other survivor. Smoke clogged the air and a strong scent of blood mixed into the frantic atmosphere.

  
  
Coughing, struggling, Jeremy saw the thug unsheathe a knife. Staring at the light reflecting from the blade J.P kicked the guy in the face. The knife landed noisily on the ground close by and turning quickly, Jay Par dove for the weapon. The bandit punched Dante who yelped and rolled away, dazed and unable to fight. Holding his bitten arm the enemy glared at J.P. “I’ll kill you and take all your stuff! You’ll pay for the wounds you gave me!” He spat, yelling. Then, he leapt into the air.

  
  
Blood exploded onto J.P’s face. The red substance was hot and sticky, the smell of iron so intense he almost threw up. The knife pierced through the enemy’s neck. The intruder flopped onto the ground and blood pooled beneath him. Jay Par fell with a loud thud. He shook from the overwhelming power of adrenaline, fear, and surprise. Tears stung his eyes but he hardly noticed. Everything felt distant, far away, and for a moment there was silence. No fire, no blood, no bandits, no danger.  
  
Dante barking brought J.P back to reality.

  
  
Standing up he ran to put out the flames. Opening windows he let the smoke escape. Jeremy smiled when he saw that the dog was okay. “Thank you Dante,” he said, hugging the corgi. “You protected me.” Dante replied with a happy bark, wagging his tail. Together they checked if there were more enemies around the gas station.

* * *

  
  
  
  
On the other side of the store Wade and Patrick cheered as they grabbed everything they could. Cans, packages, boxes, even ice cream. Hell, it’d go bad soon anyway. “How are the freezers still working?”  
“No idea. But hey, we get an ice cream party. That’s awesome!”  
“Never tried this flavor before.” Patrick shrugged, tossing it into the bag. Wade wandered to different shelves seeing if he missed anything. He stopped suddenly and watched Gar at the other end of the aisle.

  
  
Gar was staring at a box of muffins. He stood soundlessly unmoving. Wade hovered by curiously. “Gar?”  
“Ah!” The man jumped but instantly calmed down when he realized there was no danger. “Sorry I-”  
“You were going to hide those weren’t you?”  
“What?! No,” his brown eyes flickered in confusion. “I’m really hungry. I was going to eat them right away but…” Gar handed Wade the plastic box. “I remembered that you guys ate the least so-”  
“None of us would be mad at you for eating whatever we find.”  
“Huh? But-”  
“We’re all starving. As long as we aren’t fighting over resources, I don’t care if any of us eats what we find. And if no one hides food and we bring some back to the base, I say you can eat.”  
“I agree.”  
“Pat I-” Gar bashfully looked at the ground ashamed. He disliked looking weak and felt bad for making them worry about his health.  
“Gar its okay. Eat one. Every ounce of strength counts.”  
He shook his head. “No. Not until you guys eat first. Besides,” Gar started walking towards the entrance. “We need to get back home before the sun sets.”  
Patrick and wade stared at Gar in concern before following him back to the gas station.

  
  
“Something’s wrong.” Patrick stated. Ear to door they listened. “No zombies.” Tapping on the door in code the men instantly heard a reply. “Open.”  
Everyone paused, scanning the room in morbid surprise. “Everything’s burned!”  
“J.P are you okay?!” Gar asked, seeing his friend wiping his face clean with a cloth.  
Jay Par ran up to them, hugged Wade, and cried, thinking that they might be mad at him for the damage of the place. “B-Bandits…”  
“Where?!”  
“Dead.”  
“What?!”  
Dante barked at the remaining intruder who lay on the floor. Patrick and Gar ran over to inspect the body. “Oh my God…” Patrick whispered. “J.P did that?”  
“You did good J.P,” Gar said looking at him. “You saved our base and defended yourself. I’m glad you’re alive.”  
“H-He just a-attacked a-and-”  
“It’ll be okay J.P.” Wade said holding him. He’s never seen his friend so distressed. He must have been really afraid. “You were strong and heroic.”  
“Did any escape?” Gar asked.  
“No. I w-was crafting m-medical supplies when t-they b-broke in. I m-made a Molotov and-”  
Wade noticed Jay Par’s wounds and got out some bandages. “You’re hurt.”  
“I’m sorry J.P! If I hadn’t made such a weak plan-”  
“No Gar, its my fault,” Patrick said. “I should’ve stayed. I could’ve helped, then he wouldn’t have been outnumbered.” He looked at J.P with a frown. “I was selfish. I didn’t think of the dangers you would face alone. I just didn’t want to look weak. I’m sorry J.P.”  
“I should apologize too,” Wade sighed. “Leaving two injured people to defend a base is dumb, and leaving one alone is cowardly.”  
“And let Gar travel alone?” Jay Par shook his head. “None of you should apologize. I don’t think we had many options anyway.”

  
  
After burying the thug and cleaning the blood from the floor, everyone sat by the fire. Wade restrung and repaired the bow while humming a tune. The morbid mood couldn’t last when Gar and Patrick unpacked the food they had collected. Counting the ones that could be saved Gar stored half away for later. It was important to make sure they had food in case they had to stay in one place for a while. Ice cream, beer, cookies, muffins, and meat were opened and cooked. Smiles lit their faces and their eyes glowed excitedly as they stared at the meal. Gar and Patrick served everyone and soon they ate everything stacked in their bowls. Dante ran around J.P and Gar, making them laugh. They told jokes, stories, and it almost felt like old times. For now at least, everything was good, cheerful, and peaceful.

* * *


	5. ᴠ

“Okay,” Patrick smiled examining the crafting table. “I think we’re ready!”  
“Wow!” Wade inspected the new arrows and prodded the steel tips. “Amazing! These’ll cut right through the zombies!”  
“At least I get an axe now.” Gar said, twirling the weapon.  
“Here J.P, I made this one for you.” Patrick presented a hockey stick with nails hammered into it.

  
“Whoa!”  
“What about you Pat?” Wade asked.  
“I have…” Spinning around he raised the item in the air and stood in a heroic pose. “A shovel!”  
Gar kneeled on the ground and Dante jumped into his backpack. Wade rolled up a map and nodded. “Let’s go search the hospital.”

  
  
The street, cars, debris, and other objects crumbled away making a maze of garbage in the city. Avoiding burning cars and large holes the survivors finally arrived at the entrance of the hospital. Lights flickered frantically. The floor was completely empty of any life. Not even a wind lazily skipped by. “Its quiet here…” Patrick whispered. Chairs and potted plants were flipped over and no music played over the speakers either. “So where should we look first?” Wade asked.   
“This hospital has at least ten floors.” J.P observed. “Maybe we should split up?”  
“But what if there’s a crowd of zombies?” Gar asked.  
“Avoid anything too challenging.” Patrick said. “Meet back at this floor. If you can’t just head back to base.”

  
  
All four climbed up to the first platform where the staircases turned to the left and right. Each man had a different reaction to the morbid setting. Zombie corpses lay all over the tiled floor. Some remains were disfigured and unreadable, torn apart by hungry zombies or damaged by other survivors. Machines were scattered around them broken and destroyed. Only the ceiling lights seemed to work. Blood coated the interior and the decaying smell was almost overwhelmingly terrible and made the nostrils burn. Patrick stared at everything in horror, Gar coughed and almost threw up, tears stung Wade’s eyes and J.P held onto Wade’s arm to steady himself, as if he was about to faint. They studied the tall ascending steps for a moment, trying to gather confidence to continue exploring the dangerous ruins of the hospital. “I’ll stick with Wade this time.” J.P said.  
Gar nodded. “Alright. Gather as many supplies as you can.”  
“Right! I bet Jeremy and I can get more than you guys!” The tall man bragged. He hated the heavy weight of dread and did his best to lighten the gloomy mood.  
Patrick laughed. “Its not a competition Wade.”

  
  
At the platform they looked back at each other with worn-out smiles. The tension of trying to survive constantly chipped away at their usual cheerful personalities, leaving them empty and stitched with fear. Waving, the friends departed and slowly marched up the stairs. The large balcony catwalks were silent. Maybe zombies had gathered in clusters elsewhere.

  
  
“Nothing here.” Wade stated while looking in the cabinets. “Why can’t I find any needles, medicine, or bandages?”  
“The doctors must’ve used most of the resources trying to save the ones who got bit.”  
Wade sighed sadly. “I can’t imagine what it feels like.” He shuddered. “Must be very painful, and all those germs. Ugh.”  
“Probably worse than a snake bite.”  
“Let’s search the other rooms. There has to be something left in this barren place.”

  
  
After unsuccessfully finding anything the two men wandered the halls, repeating the process. Open a door, quickly search, grab items, and leave to the next room. Suddenly J.P paused and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Wait!” He whispered, blocking Wade from moving any farther. Frozen in fear the pair observed the chaotic corridor. The walls and floor were cracked, crushed, and broken. Deep claw marks scarred the walls while large holes left big gaps in the ground. Blood was violently splattered across the long obstacle course. “We should go back.”  
“Why?” Wade asked.  
“Something was here.”  
“Its probably gone now. I think we would’ve seen a giant zombie walking around.”

  
“I don’t like this,” Jay Par shook his head. “I say we leave.”  
“We can handle this J.P. C’mon,” Wade waved his arm and smiled brightly. “There could be supplies close by.”  
Jeremy stood wide eyed at the dangerous path. He locked eyes with Wade for a moment, uncertain. It felt like porcupine spines were stabbing his nerves, telling him it was a bad idea to go any farther. ‘A big creature is here and I don’t want to run into it.’  
“We really need the medical supplies J.P.” Wade said. “I can’t do this without you. If we stick together we can defeat any zombies that’ll attack us. Besides, what if one of us gets injured? None of us will be able to make it back to base ourselves if we get wounded.”  
J.P’s eyes sparked brighter than the sun. “I won’t leave you behind. Okay. Let’s go.”  
“Awesome! Let’s figure out how to get past the obstacles.”

  
  
At the edge of a hole they prepared to leap across. “You see that cart? That’s what we’ll aim for.” Wade pointed to it. “I’ll go first.” Taking a running start he jumped and landed with a roll. Grabbing onto the cart for balance Wade slowly stood up. Nervously J.P paced back and forth. “What if I break my leg or arm?” He asked looking down. In the darkness the man couldn’t make out any details but he assumed the hole went a few feet down. Growls, wheezes, and screaming echoed from below and Jay Par stared at the pit in horror. ‘If I fall I’ll be eaten by zombies.’  
“I believe in you J.P!”  
“I don’t know Wade. I’m not good at jumping. You have longer legs than me and can sprint far.”  
“Pretend you’re diving for a winning shot at hockey! It’s the last few seconds of the game and you’re the hero! You’ll bring us to victory!” Wade stated proudly and enthusiastically. Jeremy stared at Wade who gave him a confident smile. Turning around Jay Par gained some distance and crouched. Shooting forward he sped up and jumped as far as he could.

  
  
Heart racing J.P screamed. Feet hit the edge of the other side but the man fell back as he lost his balance. Wade grabbed him but both men dangled over the hole. “I caught you! You’re okay J.P!” Wade wheezed as the air was crushed out of him. Jay Par was holding on so tightly that his friend was suffocating. “No! Don’t let go!”  
“I won’t!”  
J.P’s body went completely limp. Strength instantly drained from his limbs and was replaced by terror. Rigid like a mouse trap the man was unable to move or pull himself up. Eyes shut he clung to Wade and was afraid to look down. Dragging J.P to safety Wade collapsed on the ground as air punched into his lungs.  
“I’m sorry! I didn’t want to fall! Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine.” Wade wheezed. Sitting up he studied the area. There were still multiple holes around the corridor. “This is gonna be tricky.”

On their feet the two first walked over to the doors closest to them. Wade examined the panel, unable to turn the handle. “They’re all locked.”  
Jeremy grinned. “Step back. I got this.”  
“Are you going to-”  
With a powerful kick the door exploded from the frame and the lock was destroyed.  
“Lock-pick it since we can’t find a key?”  
“When you’re strong,” J.P flexed his muscles. “You can solve anything!”  
Wade stared at his friend in stunned awe. “Wow!” He laughed. “Remind me to never stand in your way. That door is wasted!”  
“Hurry, let’s look for supplies and get out of here.”

  
  
Dante sniffed the ground and carefully avoided broken glass. The dog’s tail wagged happily as he scanned the place for food. Patrick gazed at the windows sadly. The sun and perfect blue sky was ruined by the gloomy, grey, decaying world below. Even the trees were ashy and drooping as garbage blew around in the wind. Gar was distracted sorting through medical supplies and kept only what was unopened and new. “I wonder if the others are having better luck than us. There isn’t much here. I think people were doing construction to expand the hospital when the zombies rushed in like a wave. I guess zombie bites are more overwhelming in a city than the countryside.”  
“Gar,”  
“What’s up man?”  
“When we build a new base can we have a garden for flowers?”

  
Gar turned to Patrick and curiosity was written over his features.  
A smile twitched on the other’s face. “I just…I miss seeing pretty colors. Everything is so shabby and bland now.”  
“Sure Pat.” Gar returned a kind smile. “I’ll make sure to find the best patch of land for it too.”  
Dante barked happily, bouncing up and down. They grinned at the adorable corgi. “I think Dante likes the idea Pat.”  
“Thanks.” Stretching, Patrick took his shovel and moved debris out of the way. Happiness sparked strongly throughout the group. Thinking about a bright future boosted their confidence to keep fighting. “I can’t wait Gar. Our next base is gonna be the coolest!”  
Gar chuckled. “It’ll be amazing.”  
“So, should we go this way before heading back? There are only a few more rooms-”

  
  
A loud pop startled the group. The sound echoed like a metal pan crashing onto stone. “What do we do Gar?”  
“It sounded like a gun shot.”  
“From behind us? Back towards the entrance?”  
“Let’s go this way.” Gar whispered.  
Dante, Gar, and Patrick ran to the construction zone to keep their distance from the bandits.

  
  
Out of breath Gar buckled and smacked onto the ground. “Can’t…go,” he coughed. “Any farther.”  
Frantically Patrick scanned the complex maze of steel bars and wood platforms. Dumping items from his backpack he studied the supplies to see if he could craft anything. “Shit! What do we do?!”  
Dante growled and barked, ears waving side to side, listening for danger. Around the corner shadows rippled across the wall as footsteps got louder. The dog crawled into Gar’s backpack and Patrick pulled him up. Tense, the two glued their eyes ahead, preparing for a long difficult battle. Fear and anticipation slowly and painfully tore apart their tough confidence away, destroying it like a bear clawing a tree. A man held a metal bat and ominously shifted his weight from foot to foot, eagerly waiting for a bloody battle. “Looks like we found another group of survivors.” The bandit leader was bald; scars were scattered on his face and his clothes were torn to shreds. Other bandits stood by him with tools and weapons, blood dripping from the metal surfaces. “You guys don’t look strong. In fact, you look weaker than the last group we ran into at the sports store.” Laughter eerily floated around the air. “Got nowhere to run. Its over for you survivors.”  
“Oh yeah?” Patrick spat. “We don’t give up easily.”  
The bandit leader leapt at them.

  
  
Shovel and bat met creating a deafening clap of sound. Gar ducked as a knife narrowly swung past his face. The axe sliced into a bandit’s gut. Tearing it from the thug he blocked an attack from a pipe. Stumbling back Patrick and Gar got cornered. The boards below their feet creaked and from everyone’s weight. One bandit struck a pipe on Patrick’s shoulder and the man shouted when he felt something crack. Grabbing the weapon he spun in a circle and let go, tossing the pipe and bandit over the platform. The dangerous survivor’s body slapped the metal beams and exploded into bloody pieces. Sparks shot into the air as Patrick blocked the bat with his shovel again. Two bandits dove in and tried to disassemble the man’s defense.  
“No! Pat!” Gar jumped between them and slivers of metal pierced his leg and gut. Screaming, Gar scratched one bandit’s face and hit the other with the axe. Patrick kicked the first thug away and the knives clattered onto the wood panels. The leader bandit stepped back and swung the bat at Gar. Patrick tackled him and hit the thug in the head with the shovel. Groaning in pain the bandits rolled around trying to recover.

  
  
“I…I think this is it for us.” Gar wheezed. Blood poured onto his hand as he tried to put pressure on the wounds. Wiping blood from his nose the survivor weakly held up the axe, ready for the bandits to surround and attack them again.  
“So, this is it?” Patrick asked. “Fight to the death?”  
Glancing behind him Gar saw a clear tarp with a hole in it. “I refuse to give up. C’mon Pat let’s run this way before they get up.”  
“What?! No. No way!” Patrick stared at the complicated maze of steel beams in dread. “I’m not going! Those thin sticks won’t support our weight! What if I lose my balance and fall?!”  
Gar grabbed his friend’s shoulders and stared at him, both of their eyes a mixture of fear. “We don’t have time!”  
“But I-”  
“Patrick I know you can do this. I have my hax and you have great athletic reflexes!”  
“Gar I don’t know if I can do this! I’m scared!”  
“So am I but I’d rather risk traveling through the construction zone than stay here and get killed by thugs! C’mon Pat let’s-”  
Patrick spun Gar out of the way just as a bullet launched at them. The bullet grazed Patrick’s neck and in a blink the two started running.

  
  
“This is the last door.” Wade yawned. “Then we can go back to the base. I really want some cookies actually. A soda sounds good too,” he said as the two turned around a corner. “What about you-”  
Jeremy screamed in horror and tripped. They stared at a corpse of a survivor. Chunks of it were missing. “Did…did an animal do that?” Wade asked, examining the large scars and bites.  
“Not unless it was a tiger.”  
A loud sound rattled like thunder through the corridor and then suddenly paused. Wade and J.P looked at each other. “What was that?”  
Jay Par stood up and his eyes flickered left to right searching for zombies. “I told you something was here. We have to leave-”  
A beast charged at them. Large muscular legs carried it effortlessly as it ran and sharp claws shredded everything in it’s way. Screaming, Wade and J.P split up and narrowly dodged claws that sliced through the air where they had been standing. Jeremy dove into a room and smacked into a table just as the giant zombie slammed into the door frame. The frame buckled from it’s strength as it struggled to break in.

  
  
Wade’s lungs burned as he recovered his breath from the long sprint. Sitting against a wall he frantically looked around for the zombie. ‘Oh no! J.P’s trapped!’ Fractions of the wall and door frame splintered and cracked. Quickly Wade ran around the corner and shook in fear. Aiming the bow he shot an arrow at the zombie. It pierced the jaw and the giant beast roared in anger and pain. J.P escaped and hit the zombie trying to distract it from chasing Wade. “We gotta get out of here!”  
“I know what to do! We’ll time our attacks and escape when it gets weaker!”  
“Okay, I’ll lead it around!”  
Spinning on his heel Wade ran the other way and prepared another arrow for the zombie.

* * *


	6. ᴠɪ

Patrick flinched as a bullet grazed his arm. Some bullets missed and flew yards past the survivors or ricocheted off of the metal bars. Gar tried to keep up but he was limping. Stumbling, he fell over. Patrick caught him and they kept running from the thugs. Gun shots started to fade; the loud bangs now a soft popping sound. However, the men were trapped in a maze. Slowly they climbed over pipes and beams, feet and eyes focused on finding an exit. Patrick watched Gar struggle to slide down a ladder and stopping every few minutes to calculate his next movements. The survivor’s sharp wits were starting to decrease from blood loss and draining energy.  
“Do you need to rest?”

  
“No,” Gar wheezed. “Gotta…get back…to base.”  
“Give me your bag.”  
“But-”  
“Sit down. I’ll try and fix your injuries.” Patrick inspected the wounds. “This sucks! I’m not a doctor. I can’t tell how bad these injuries are.”  
“It hurts but I can endure it. The stab wounds aren’t that painful Pat.” Gar said, taking a few sips of water.  
“Okay. I’ll do my best.” Patrick wrapped bandages around Gar and then the two stood up and searched for another way out of the hospital.

  
  
Glass shattered and rained down on J.P as he ran from the giant zombie. It was a few feet behind him and gaining speed.  
“J.P! Move!”  
Jeremy dove into another room and wade stood directly ahead of the zombie. An arrow rushed through the air and struck the zombie’s nose. A third landed in the zombie’s head before Wade ran, screaming in terror. Blood coated the floor heavy as gasoline from the zombie. It roared and was still very fast, but the two survivors could tell it was getting slower.

Stopping at a corner Wade fired another arrow. It missed and hit the ground a few feet away. The zombie swiped at Wade and punctured the survivor in the stomach with it’s nails. Screaming in agony he struggled to break free. However, the claws just sunk in deeper. Blood trickled down Wade’s chin and his eyes locked onto the pit of death as the survivor hovered over the zombie’s mouth. Energy dissolving Wade laid limp, fear pumping through his system. ‘Is this it for me? Am I going to be eaten by a zombie?’ Wade shut his eyes as pain exploded through his gut, he was unable to fight.

  
  
“Let him go!” J.P shouted. With the modified hockey stick he hit the zombie’s heels. It dropped Wade and was stunned from pain. Wade flopped onto the ground, groaned, and rolled over. Quickly Jay Par pulled him up and they ran to the stairs, fleeing to the hospital entrance. Dreading that the giant beast was following behind, they tripped down the steps. Landing on the floor they watched as the zombie caught up to them in minutes, standing on a platform, and glaring at the two survivors with glowing eyes. “Get down!” Wade shouted as he fired the last arrow. The beast immediately stood still, frozen in place, and then collapsed. J.P and wade leapt away when the zombie fell. The giant landed with a thunderous thud, shaking the ground like an earthquake.

  
  
In the parking lot J.P tossed Wade into the car and started the engine.  
“What about Patrick and Gar? Shouldn’t we wait for them?” Wade coughed. Drops of blood splattered on the window and dash board.  
“This is an emergency.” Looking around, J.P spotted a car that looked old but in better shape than the other vehicles. “They can take that car.”  
“Was that car here when we arrived?”  
Uncertainty created a fog in Jay Par’s memories. That and the extreme pain he had from the glass fragments in his skin. “I don’t remember. But, I’m sure Pat and Gar can escape with that car.”

  
  
“C’mon Gar. You can do this. Just a few more steps until we get to the car.” Patrick said.  
“What about you?” Gar scoffed drowsily as he swayed on his feet. “Your injuries look worse than mine.” Entering an elevator the survivors anxiously waited for the door to crack open. Gar held onto Patrick for support and Patrick wrapped a wounded arm on his friend’s shoulder. Dante whimpered, the scent of blood itching his nose.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“For what?”  
“For not trying to escape earlier when we got surrounded. I put us in danger,” Patrick’s voice was fractured by sadness. “Because I was afraid to go through the construction. I…I almost got us killed.”  
Gar smiled crestfallenly. “It was a risk no matter what choice we made.” He shrugged. “All I care about is that we’re alive right now.” The elevator door opened and they looked around for danger. “Let’s go before we run into any other zombies or survivors.”

  
  
“Where’s the car?!” Patrick asked. “Did J.P and Wade leave us?”  
“They must’ve had to depart in a hurry. Hopefully they’re back at base.”  
“I guess we’ll have to find another car.” Patrick paused by a burned, scrapped, ruined car which was now just an old metal frame. “Sit here and stay low. I see a car that way.”  
“No Pat-”  
“I’ll be fast! I’ll just sprint over there and-”  
“I won’t let you Pat!” Gar’s eyes were sewed with fear and grief. “What if one of those thugs shows up? One had a gun!”  
“Gar-”  
“I’m going with you!”  
“But you’re injured!”  
“So are you!”  
Patrick sighed. “Gar, trust me.”  
Gar glared at the man but then his brown eyes softened. “Okay, but be stealthy.”  
Patrick nodded.

  
  
Crouching by a car Patrick tried to steady his breathing and dissolve any nervousness left in his system. Breathing calmly the man prepared to run to the next bones of a car. Sliding, he hid behind a trunk. Seven feet away was the vehicle he would jump into and start. Crawling, Patrick weaved in and out between the scrapped trucks and cars, never poking his head out above the metal structures. Looking back Gar gave Patrick weak thumbs-up and a forced smile. He was leaning over from pain and looked worn-out.  
‘I gotta get us medical attention right away.’ A bullet struck the trunk and missed Patrick’s hand by inches. ‘Shit! Now what do I do? I can’t tell where they are.’ The survivor knew he couldn’t run fast enough to find more cover. The metal wouldn’t make a good shield either. ‘Wait! I got it!’ Tearing a panel from the car the man crouched by a wheel anticipating the next shot. ‘I gotta time this right.’ Tossing the panel Patrick ran.

  
  
The metal square landed noisily in the parking lot. Bullets instantly punched through it. One bullet punctured the asphalt close to Patrick’s foot. Sprinting, he got into the vehicle and started it. Whoever had the car last had left the keys in the ignition. The engine roared and Patrick drove to Gar and opened the door for him. The man climbed in and pulled the door shut. “Drive!” Bullets rained down on them and shattered the glass. A few pierced through the seats narrowly missing the two survivors. Screeching, the vehicle tires frantically tried to stick to the ground and leave the parking lot. The smoke rising from the rubber created decent cover as they drove away.

* * *

  


  
“I did the best I could.”  
“Thanks J.P.” Wade said. Taking out some tweezers the man searched for tiny glass fragments. The cold metal made Jay Par jump and when the glass was ripped from the skin he flinched. Inspecting the wounds Wade said, “I think I got all the pieces that were buried under the skin.”  
Jeremy examined his arms and hands, not seeing any sparkling glass shards reflecting in the light. Blue eyes studied brown. “You’re okay too Wade?”  
“Yeah. Those claws sliced through my gut but I think I’ll be okay.”  
The door opened and Patrick and Gar entered the garage. Wade and J.P instantly started to repair their injured friends.

  
  
“Where were you guys?” Patrick asked in confusion as everyone sat by the fire.  
“A giant zombie attacked us.” Wade said, pointing to his bandaged wounds. “It chased us around the hospital.”  
“Wade and I killed the zombie but it was a tough fight.”  
“I ran out of arrows.”  
“At least we got out and found some supplies!” J.P said with a bright smile.  
“What happened to you guys?” Wade asked.  
“Patrick and I were surrounded by bandits.”  
“It was crazy guys!”  
“It was a small group but they all had weapons. Luckily, we managed to dodge most of the bullets.”

  
  
“What do we do now?” J.P asked.  
“I don’t know about you,” Patrick collapsed on a sleeping bag and stared at the ceiling, tired and in pain. “But I’m not moving for a while.”  
“I think we should stock up on items and craft more weapons and resources.” Wade said.  
“Yes,” Jay Par agreed. “Our base needs repairs too. I think we should prepare for another attack.”  
“Focus on saving materials. Only use what’s necessary,” Gar said. “Don’t improve the base. We’re leaving tomorrow.”  
“Are you sure there isn’t another place to live in the city?”  
“No. I feel that if we stay here any longer it’ll be the end for us.”

  
“Who’s the most injured right now?” Patrick asked.  
Wade and Gar groaned.  
“Okay. Pat and I will take the first shift. I’ll craft items and med-kits and Patrick will build weapons and tools.”  
“But first,” Patrick shuffled through a chest and got out a pot and soup cans. “I’m starving.”  
“I agree,” Wade’s stomach grumbled. “A hot bowl of soup sounds amazing right now.” Hungry and tired the group yawned as they drank soup, happy to at least be warm and alive. Injuries burned and itched but the extra medical supplies reduced the pain. After and hour J.P and Patrick stood by the crafting tables and did their best to build more items until it was Wade and Gar’s turn to guard the base.

* * *


	7. ᴠɪɪ

Dante woke up and stretched his tiny legs and cute paws. Nose twitching the corgi searched for any deliciously interesting scents. At first, all he could smell was smoke from the old campfire. A heavy musty stench of burned logs made the dog sneeze. Pacing around the garage Dante found the food bowls. Tail wagging happily he enthusiastically ate the scraps that were left and also drank some water. Stomach full the corgi gazed at the humans in admiration. Dante was proud to be part of such a big pack. Sitting by Patrick’s feet he guarded the base with amazing dedication.

  
  
Patrick’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay up. A bag of chips lay by his legs, empty and crushed. ‘I don’t remember finishing those. Oh.’  
Dante smiled, fur covered in flavoring dust.  
‘Never mind.’ Popping a marshmallow in his mouth Patrick swept his green orbs across the garage. ‘What time is it?’ Looking at a watch the man gasped. ‘Only four?’ It’d be two more hours until Gar and Wade’s shift. Bones aching, Patrick decided to keep moving to stay awake. “Are you up J.P?”  
Jay Par jumped. “Yes!”  
“I want some coffee.” Patrick yawned.  
“Same, I’ll start a fire.”  
“Okay.” Gathering grounds and a pot Patrick walked over to the campfire. Pouring some water into the metal pan the man saw Dante dart towards him and frantically scratch his legs. Dancing to dodge sharp claws he asked, “What’s wrong Dante?”  
Instead of a happy bark the corgi ran in circles and whimpered.

  
  
Jeremy stood up and traded a lighter for a hockey stick. “Maybe something’s outside.”  
Jogging to the windows Patrick replied, “I can’t see anything. It’s too dark outside.”  
“You want to climb up to the roof?”  
“Yeah. C’mon.” Leaving bags of coffee behind Patrick grabbed a shovel and following J.P they ascended a ladder.

  
  
Figures shifted and swayed in the darkness. Camouflaged and packed together, details were difficult to see. “Well, they aren’t human but…” J.P stood on his toes and studied the crowd in the distance.  
“Can you tell how many zombies there are?”  
“No. But it is a large horde.” A sense of dread whirled through their gut as the zombies slowly wandered closer.  
“We can’t run.” The statement smacked them with the intensity of a firecracker going off. Fear glued feet to the ground and both men stared at the zombies in horror.  
  
None of the survivors had seen a zombie horde that giant before.

  
  
“Pat,” Jay Par grabbed his shoulders. “We got to move!”  
“All of us are going to have to defend the base!” Anticipation and urgency punched their nerves as J.P and Patrick slid down the ladder and entered the garage. Tripping through with unsteady steps and frantic motions the two men crashed into the work benches, looking for anything that could increase their chances of survival.  
“Can you guys be quiet?! A man needs his rest!” Wade grumpily said. Ignoring him crashes, bangs, and rattling noises echoed through the tiny space. Sitting up Wade was about to complain when his jaw dropped. Jeremy and Patrick’s terrified faces silenced any further protest from the tall survivor.  
“Are we under attack?”  
“Yes!” Patrick broke apart some tape and began stitching makeshift weapons. “We have to prepare!”  
“Zombies –a horde of them- are surrounding the base!” J.P added.  
“Do any of you have a plan?” Wade asked.

  
  
No one answered.

  
  
Turning over he shook Gar. “Wake up!”  
“Huh?” The man drowsily rubbed his face and started blinking sleep away.  
“Zombies!”  
Gar instantly got up and gazed at the others in shock. “What?! Where?!”  
“Outside. They’re sluggish but will be here soon!”  
“Stop!” Gar shouted.

  
Everyone froze.  
“Guys, shove everything you can in your bags. Patrick, focus on making us armor and weapons! The rest of us will craft items and look for anything that could help us!”  
“Couldn’t we just run? The car is a little far but-”  
“No good.” Patrick responded sadly.  
“The zombies are everywhere. There are too many to sneak through the crowd.”

  
  
In a hidden corner of the garage J.P found a collection of wood planks. Moving the sticks his blue eyes glowed in surprise. “Hey,” turning the survivor faced Wade and Gar who were pushing a sofa in front of the door as a barricade. “There are fuel barrels here!”  
“How many?” Gar asked out of breath.  
“Three.”  
“Excellent!” Patrick cheered. “I know exactly what we can do with those!”  
“What?” Wade asked warily.

  
Jay Par grinned. “For explosives!”  
“Isn’t that too risky?”  
“Do we have much of a choice?”  
“J.P, Wade, can you carry the barrels to the roof? Gar and I can carry these up.”  
“On it.”  
“Sure.”

  
  
Tying up the fuel barrels with rope Wade and J.P lifted the heavy cylinders up the ladder. With their muscles it was an easy task. Dante jumped into Gar’s bag as everyone climbed up to the top. Patrick dropped the weapons he crafted and smiled. “Choose your weapon boys.”  
J.P picked up a diamond road sign with a metal bar nailed to the back. “I always wanted a shield.”  
Wade inspected a small switch blade. “Better than nothing,” he shrugged. “And it’ll be good for quick attacks.”  
“I’ll stick with the axe and stay light. Pat, hand me some armor.” Gar wrapped some metal plates around his arms and legs.  
“Cool that leaves me with this scythe.”  
“How are we going to do this? There must be more than thirty zombies.”  
“Maybe if they’re split into smaller groups we’d be able to make sure the zombies don’t ambush us.” Patrick suggested.  
“If too many gather in one place one of us can throw a barrel.” J.P said.

  
  
Dawn slowly clashed with darkness transforming the sky into a mixture of night and a vivid pinkish purple. Patrick, Gar, J.P, and Wade waited anxiously for the first zombies to attack. The atmosphere was silent besides some wheezing, growls, and a light wind floating through the air. Everyone’s eyes were wide with terror, their muscles tense ready to spring into action. It was four men against an army. The band of undead created a sound similar to marching drums as they destroyed the exterior of the base. The sound sent waves of fear through their bones. Gar sprung forward and swung the axe at a zombie that poked its head above the roof. It fell and landed with a loud thud as two more zombies climbed up the side of the building. Keeping their distance the survivors battled the zombies rushing at the gas station.

  
  
“Always have someone stick close to the barrels,” Patrick said. “We don’t want the zombies to attack those.”  
Five zombies crawled up to the roof and Gar spun, the axe chopping down three. Patrick jabbed one with a shovel and Wade shot a couple more with some arrows. Seven gathered on the north end of the station and leapt at J.P and Wade. Jeremy rammed them with his shield. The zombies exploded from the impact, rotting flesh and blood coating the four survivors. One zombie grabbed the man’s leg and he screamed. With the hockey stick he tried to tear them away but the weak weapon snapped into two pieces. Some of the undead collapsed but were pulling the man towards their jaws. Wade stepped in and slashed at the zombies with the knife and the small crowd fell back limp and lifeless. Sharing a smile as thanks they returned to guarding each other against the zombie horde.

  
  
“Some are breaking into the house!” Gar shouted.  
“Focus on the zombies in the larger groups!”  
“I have thirty arrows left!” Wade stated over the deafening screams of the undead.  
“I’m going to throw a barrel!” Patrick pushed the heavy cylinder across the roof as his friends danced in war around him. Tossing the barrel over it landed into the zombie horde. “Get back!” Everyone ducked as Patrick threw a lit match onto the barrel. Clouds of fire shot into the sky and zombie limbs rained down on the survivors.

  
  
As a pink blue dawn bleached the horizon and night began to fade the horde became more desperate, vicious, and powerful. Scattered into packed fractions the zombies quickly ascended the gas station building. Packed together the survivors slowly removed the numbers of the horde. All four had a solid rhythm. Every few moments one would attack, jabbing a few zombies before retreating back into the group. “Duck!” Patrick commanded. Spinning the scythe the zombies fell in halves like cut blades of grass.  
“Good work!” Wade cheered. A few arrows assisted in widening the gap between zombie and survivor.  
“Pat, over here!” Gar pointed.  
“Okay! Rolling the second barrel!” Another explosion and fire began to circle the building. Zombies ablaze brushed past and the flames started burning old, weak, decaying materials. Heat became intense and the air was cluttered with smoke.

  
  
“The fire is growing stronger!” J.P shouted as he charged into a small group of zombies.  
“Will the place hold?” Wade asked.  
“Focus! The zombies are almost gone!” Patrick cheered. Their conversation was absorbed by a gust of wind sharply slicing through the air. The structure creaked like a sinking ship as the fire transformed into a tornado of flames.  
  
Everything became overly chaotic.

  
  
A wave of zombies trampled over each other like busy insects angrily humming and ready to strike. “Patrick!” Gar shouted in fear. “I’m having trouble keeping the zombies back!”  
“Pat! Get a barrel over here!” The four survivors wouldn’t be able to defend their stations for long, and there was only one barrel left. Patrick stared at the zombie horde in terror. His friends were in danger and they were all about to be overrun by the undead.  
Was this how their story was going to end?  
A cold ripple of fear and panic traveled through Patrick as his friends desperately called for his help.  
  
‘This is it. The zombies are going to eat us.’

  
  
If he tossed the last barrel the zombies would still outnumber them. The fire was suffocating and ruined the precious small amount of fresh air the survivors had left. If the whole place didn’t burn down then the undead would be eating roasted human meat for breakfast. “Patrick! We don’t have much room left!”  
“There are too many zombies! I’m getting surrounded!”  
Moving the barrel to the center of the roof Patrick lit a match. “Guys, we have to bail! On three, all of us have to jump and make a run for it!”  
“Are you insane?!” Wade asked.  
“There’s fire around this whole station!”  
“Does it look like we have any other ideas?!” Patrick yelled. “One…two…three!”

  
  
A loud thunderous explosion shook the world as fire burned anything swept into the giant cloud. Leaping into the air the survivors landed with a violent roll before running to evade the blast. Gar held an injured arm and from the pain and momentum ran towards the car. Patrick and J.P were running at full speed but doubled back when they heard a sickening crack. Wade screamed seeing his leg limp and broken. The two lifted him up as bricks and an old wooden frame of the gas station fell. With a boost of adrenaline and fear the three managed to dart ahead and dodge the collapsing base.

  
  
Quickly getting into the car the group started the engine and drove away. Avoiding highways and other places that could be crowded the survivors escaped the city. Without a shelter and nothing but an empty land in the distance, their chances of survival dramatically decreased. However none of them focused on that. The four men were relived to still be alive and win one match against a horde of zombies. Wherever their next destination was it would be better than their last base. Even with a low amount of supplies the survivors were excited for their next adventure in the apocalypse.

* * *


	8. ᴠɪɪɪ

A barren wasteland stretched across the horizon. Sunlight baked the earth and roasted anything standing in the blazing temperatures. Dusty fields were only slightly cooler than the pavement road. Zombies glued to the ground were easily destroyed as a car drove by. Strong winds blew sand past open windows and made the survivors sneeze. Every few miles they would stop driving to collect stone from large rocks scattered around and also check if the car was still in good condition.

  
  
  
After assuring that the vehicle wasn’t overheating, Patrick and J.P inspected the group’s wounds. “A twisted wrist? Ugh. Looks painful Gar.” Frowning, Patrick carefully began repairing the injury.  
“I know. It feels horrible.”  
“Hey, at least your leg isn’t like some kid drawing!” Wade complained.  
“At least I’ll be able to run from danger.” Gar spat.  
“I’m going to try and fix it. J.P you’re going to help me here.”  
“Okay.”

  
  
  
“I…I don’t know guys.”  
“Wade, none of us are doctors and I don’t think a surgeon will magically appear in this desert.” Patrick said, hovering by his friend warily. Jay Par was holding Wade back in case he accidently lashed out in pain for when the two would try and restore the man’s broken leg.   
“This…this is going to hurt!”  
“Well?! They’re going to have to break your leg again if you’re going to eventually walk!”  
“Shut up Gar!” Wade snapped.  
J.P swiftly nodded to Patrick who, seeing their patient finally distracted, reset the bone back in its original position. Wade screamed. The sound ricocheted around the metal interior and shredded their ears. Finding long wood planks Patrick and Jay Par crafted a splint and crutch for Wade’s leg.  
“Do you…have any…water?” After drinking some he passed the jar to the others who also took a few sips from the container before continuing down the road.

  
  
  
“Got any ideas on where to stay for the night?” Patrick asked over a loud symphony of snores. “I don’t think sleeping in our car will give us much protection from zombies or raiders, even if we took shifts.”  
“Uh,” Jeremy scratched his head. “How about the stadium? But, it could be crowded with zombies.”  
“A little look shouldn’t hurt. Besides, the place might have food.”  
“Right,” he sighed. “We need food.”  
“How are you? Any burns from the fire?”  
Jay Par shrugged. “I have a few burns on my arms but nothing major. Antiseptic and bandages could easily heal the injuries.”  
“Luckily, I have no burns surprisingly. That zombie horde had been crazy big.”

  
  
  
A football stadium loomed over them like a giant. Standing in shadows the metal structure had an ominous atmosphere cloaked around it. Usually a long line of excited sports fans waited for a chance to enter. Various scents of barbeque, soft drinks, and car fuel hovered in the air as people would wave their tickets around in great enthusiasm. Nothing remained of good old football games after the apocalypse though.

  
  
  
“Do you want to go and explore?”  
“A quick search is okay, but what about Gar and Wade?” J.P whispered, nodding to the sleeping survivors.  
“I think they’ll be fine. Its pretty quiet outside anyway. If we get into danger we’ll just run back to the car.”  
“Okay. I’m right behind you.”

  
  
  
Ascending a tiny dark corridor of steps Patrick and J.P saw some zombies. Dressed in staff uniforms they clumsily paced up and down the stairs. Swiftly swinging their weapons the survivors cleared a path. Sunlight blinded them for a few seconds when they reached the top of the stadium. Rows of seats created a round maze and the field was eerily empty. “Where to? Official’s box or locker room?”  
Patrick pointed to the glass room.

  
  


  
Crawling towards the box the two opened a door quietly as possible. Any small clamor would explode as loud as thunder in a sports stadium. For now, it seemed abandoned of any life. “Huh, I’m surprised there isn’t a horde or humans in this arena.”  
“Well, I don’t think there was a game event recently. You know, before any zombies. And the stadium is sitting on a patch of desert. Not many resources here.”  
“Surely a few groups could open up merchant shops in this big place?”  
“Maybe they found better buildings to set up shop in.” Searching the glass room they eventually found something interesting. “Hey Pat! Do you think you can break into this?” Under a desk was a tiny safe. “I can try. But, it’ll take a while to crack it open without an alarm setting off.”

  
  


  
Piece by piece Patrick hammered the safe with some tools and a pick-axe. Cracks scarred the steel case, chipping away as if it was a precious undiscovered fossil. With a final swing the door opened. Inside was a pistol and a few boxes of ammo. “Whoa!” Crafting a makeshift belt for the pistol, Patrick equipped the new weapon. “C’mon. Let’s go search for more supplies.”

  
  


  
Exiting the official’s box Patrick and J.P were shocked to see Wade and Gar limping around. “Guys?!”  
“Hey Pat, J.P.” Wade smiled but it was weighed down with pain. “Gar and I wanted to help.”  
“But you’re injured!”  
“We were bored. Waiting for you to return, neither of us had patience for that.”  
“Do you think this stadium will be good for a base?” Gar asked.  
“There aren’t many resources here.” Jay Par said.  
“The stadium is pretty secure,” Patrick added. “But it won’t last long.”  
“Not much room for improvement, at least with a small group like us.”  
“Yeah,” Wade nodded. “Its really open. Too many rooms.”  
“How many days should we stay?”  
“Just for the night. Any longer and I think we’ll run into zombies or people.”

  
  
  
Eventually the four decided to loot locker rooms. Surprisingly, the claustrophobic grey chambers were silent and empty. Most of the storage had nothing in them, but a few had football equipment. Patrick laughed and began posing in a helmet like a star athlete. “Haha! Send me in coach! I’m ready to play!”  
“Football armor! Sweet!” J.P smiled.  
“Yes! This is awesome!” Gar cheered.  
“I’m starving. I say we check the food stands.”  
“Would they even be stocked?”  
Wade shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m hungry so I’m going to see if there’s any food.”

  
  
  
“There’s some rations left in our bags.” J.P said.  
“Let’s leave those items for emergencies.” Wade easily stepped over a snack bar. Eyes shimmering like fireworks he said, “Boys, I found some candy!”  
“Don’t forget the popcorn machine!”  
“Won’t the popcorn be stale?” Gar asked.  
Patrick returned a grin. “Maybe. But I’m hungry.”

  
  
  
Salt and an endless supply of butter made the popcorn tasty, if not more edible. Melted chocolate stuck to their fingers and the four men laughed. “Its like we were left in a candy store.” J.P smiled.  
Wade sipped a bottle of soda. At least it was a common enjoyable flavor, unlike bacon and maple syrup or peanut butter and jelly. “Best stuff we’ve looted today.”  
“Hey guys,” A ball struck Gar in the stomach who then sputtered water from impact. Patrick laughed, unable to control a fit of giggles. Unused energy gathered from intense survival situations was stored inside the man’s gut, twisting and spinning like an epic rollercoaster. Besides, none of them have had fun for a while. “Who wants to play football?”  
“I’m in!” J.P exclaimed. “Even if it isn’t hockey.”

  
  
  
Wade laughed hysterically as he watched his friends play a game of football. The tournament seemed ridiculous without two teams or a correct amount of players. But, as the football was being tossed around it reminded them of time spent playing videogames. Hell, sometimes they missed salty games too. However, even during these times of peace the survivors wondered where their others friends were. For a brief moment, sadness spilled onto their features when they set up camp. Were their friends stuck in the same desperate and desolate situation? Traveling everyday through lands filled with zombies and dangerous bandits? Or did they manage to find a fortress and tons of supplies?

  
  
  
Sitting by a fire Patrick was distracted by fears of another zombie horde. Who knew when the next army would attack? With hardly any supplies left and no base, would the four men be able to survive? Going to the mountains was their only option remaining. Rocky and complicated terrain was the perfect defense against zombies and raiders, and food and fresh water resources were scattered through the forest too. It would take a long time and tremendous effort to construct a fortress from scratch but it was better than staying in a sports stadium. Various minerals mined from mountains could improve crafting too. Taking out some paper and a pen Patrick began to sketch an outline for a new base.

* * *


	9. ɪx

Sounds. Waves of noise that can either bring tranquility or destruction; like music or an avalanche. Wade was reading an outdated map and sketching routes they’ve discovered with a pen. However, it was difficult to focus on the simple task. Even the quietest noises were amplified inside the metal container. This new deafening symphony wasn’t the easiest to listen to, at least for Wade.

  
  
  
Dante kept jumping between seats and barking at J.P who was munching on chips, Gar was drumming fingers on the steering wheel and singing an off-key version of popular songs, and Patrick was snoring loudly and kicking Wade’s chair as he trembled in his sleep. If Wade could drown out the noise with the radio, he would. But only static played. Eye twitching in irritation Wade slammed his hands on the dashboard. “ENOUGH!” Everyone jumped up in alarm and stared at the grumpy man.

  
  
  
“What the hell Wade?!” Gar asked, sending his friend a glare.  
“I can’t do my job while all of you are so loud!”  
“Mapping isn’t that hard to-”  
“Then you do it!”  
“I’m driving! And your leg is broken so you can’t switch places with me.”  
Offering food to break the tension J.P asked, “Would you like some sour sweet candy Wade? It might cheer you up.”  
“No thanks I-”

  
  
  
Sputtering and coughing the car abruptly stopped. Gar examined the meters. There was a little gas left but the vehicle remained still. Cracking the hood open Gar studied mechanical guts for damage. “Great. Our car broke down and we’re still stuck in the desert!”  
“Finding a good car in an apocalypse is rare. It was junk anyway.” Jay Par shrugged.  
“We can’t walk through this wasteland. Its too hot.” Gar replied.  
“Do you want me to see if I can repair it?” Patrick asked.  
“Do you have enough materials to?” Jeremy added.  
“No. Its pointless!”  
“Why?”  
“If Wade hadn’t slammed the dashboard the car would still be working!”  
Wade crossed his arms. “Me? The vehicle is junk like J.P said. It was bound to fail eventually!”  
“Well, now we’re stranded here with hardly any water for a day and because the car can’t start we’ll have to slowly march across this wilderness until we enter the mountains! The journey will take forever and who knows what else will go wrong?!”  
“Gar,” Patrick put a hand on his shoulder. “J.P and I will fix the car. Why don’t you rest? Both of you getting angry at each other won’t help any of us.”  
“Fine.” Gar huffed.

  
  
  
Leaving doors open for fresh air, Gar and Wade sat in the car. Clearly frustrated, the two men avoided each other in a bitter silence. Studying the map Gar tried to find shortcuts along barren, sandy earth. Wade watched clouds drift by in the sky since there wasn’t anything else interesting to stare at. Patrick furrowed his brows, concern and confusion swirling in the man’s eyes. “I wonder if the heat is getting to them? Sure, all of us get salty but…”  
“I’m sure they’ll be fine as soon as we leave the desert.” J.P handed Patrick a wrench.  
“I hope so,” he said and returned to repairing the vehicle. “We’ve marched to far now to quit.”  
“Gar, Wade,” Jeremy waved to them. “Is there any fuel left?”  
“One can full.”  
“In the trunk.”  
“Thanks.” Grabbing the last can J.P poured gas into the tank. Sunlight, blindingly bright was rising in the horizon, as well as the temperature. Patrick hoped that the car would be fixed in time so they could travel during the cold winds of night.

  
  
  
“It maybe because we’re in the desert but there seems to be less zombies around.” J.P observed.  
“Perhaps it depends on a cycle.” Patrick said over noise of tools and shifting metal.  
“Cycle?”  
“Think about it. The apocalypse is terrifyingly chaotic. First few days, hardly any zombies. Maybe a few crowds-”  
“And that giant monster zombie.”  
“But not a lot. Six days pass and we have to battle a colossal horde.”  
“So you think there’s a pattern to how many zombies appear?”  
“Yes.”  
“No way! That means that-”  
“We have to gather enough weapons and supplies every week to survive a horde.”  
“How?! It sounds impossible!”  
“All we can do is create strategies and see if we’re lucky enough to collect as much stuff as possible. I want to build a fortress as soon as we can.”  
“Right.”

  
  
  
Wary, tired, and lacking energy, Patrick and J.P finally repaired the car. “Alright. Time to move.”  
“Wow! Did you manage to-”  
“Yes,” he interrupted a shocked Gar to arrange their next plan. “Now listen. J.P’s going to drive while I update the framework for our base. However, when we arrive at the mountains our first objective is to get some fresh water.”  
“Okay.”  
After eating a quick meal consisting of junk food and snacks, Wade held up a jar of water. “Enjoy it gentlemen. These are the last drops of water.” Each man drank slowly, afraid to waste an ounce. Then, the small group of survivors began driving to the mountains.

  
  
  
Moonlight painted the world faint silver. Tall mountains surrounded the vehicle which rolled to a stop. Thin lanky trees casted deep dark shadows across ground, creating perfect camouflage for any creatures moving through darkness. “I’ll go back to the car in the morning and scrap it for parts.” Patrick whispered. Quietly exiting the vehicle the four men marched through rocky terrain.

  
  
  
Glowing red eyes sparkled like tiny jewels in a mine and thundering scattered growls echoed among the shadows. Staying out in the open was a big risk but none of them wanted to run into zombies gathered in the forest. At least the mountains kept the survivors out of sight from bandits. “Would this be a good place to camp for now?” Wade asked.  
“Sure, but as usual one of us will have to keep watch.”  
“Lighting a fire would attract zombies. Its going to be a cold night.” Patiently Gar, Patrick, Wade, and J.P waited for the sun to rise. Throats dry and scratchy they searched for water as soon as dawn arrived.

  
  
  
“I say we go this way.” Gar suggested.  
“What makes you so sure that water will be in that direction?” Wade limed behind the others and flinched from an intense stabbing pain in his broken leg. With the earth unsteady, jagged, and constantly changing, the injured man found it the most difficult to walk on.   
“I know that we’ll find water eventually, so I picked a random direction.”  
“This area is unfamiliar. It’ll take forever to find water!”  
“Maybe if someone had made a better map-”  
“Its not easy okay?! Why don’t you create a map with every tiny detail?!” Clumsy, Wade regained balance by adjusting his crutch. “It wouldn’t be so hard for you, right Gar? Since you’re so good at everything!”  
Patrick’s brows furrowed. “Hey guys, stop-”  
“At least I make good plans, Wade!”  
“Actually,” J.P nervously tried to ease the building tension. “I thought we were all doing great together. We’re alive aren’t we?”  
“Yeah!” Patrick smiled, but seeing Gar and Wade’s sharp glares sliced his confidence quickly.  
“Just barely,” Wade said. “But at least I don’t make a camp in a weak gas station.”  
“Yeah?! At least I don’t make everything into a competition!” Gar hissed.

  
  
  
Ferocity blazed in the two men’s eyes. Neither wanted to step down and they shook like volcanos ready to explode. “Really? It seems like you want to take charge of everything and never listen to anyone else!”  
“What?!”  
“You were the one who wanted to loot the hospital and look what happened to us! I’m still in pain from the giant zombie’s claws, and you and Patrick are still recovering from bullet wounds!”  
“We needed medical supplies! And you were the one to try and recklessly attack that giant zombie!”  
“It charged at us!”  
“Guys, please! Maybe we should rest for a few minutes?”  
“Yes, I agree with Pat. I’m sure there’s a scientific and practical way we can find water.” However, their friends’ demand for peace was ignored by Gar and Wade. “I’m sick of this! With my map I can guess where water could be.”  
“How can you read it? With the lines you made a cartographer wouldn’t be able to understand that map!”

  
  
  
Suddenly both men jumped high into the air and aggressively swapped punches. They acted like wolves battling for territory. A strong scent of iron hit everyone’s senses, bitter and terrifying. Shocked, J.P and Patrick leapt into combat to stop the survivors who were locked in a vicious boxing match. A few injuries had already begun to appear when Patrick and J.P managed to drag the two men away. Refusing to accept defeat Gar and Wade struggled to break free from their friends’ grasp. “You can’t fight…with that broken leg…weighing you down.”  
“Shut…up…you hit like a Magikarp.”  
“Gar, Wade, stop fighting! We’ve traveled so far. We can’t let hunger, thirst, or lack of direction tear us apart!” Patrick said.  
“Pat’s right. You rescued me Gar; from zombies at a farm remember? And without Wade and I working together I’m sure that giant zombie would’ve eaten both of us.”  
“Gar, you always let everyone else eat first whenever we find food and you gave me the strength and courage I needed to run away from those bandits at the hospital. Wade found me and helped me get back to the base. We need each other. All four of us.”  
“Otherwise none of us will survive.” J.P added.  
“I…I guess you guys are right.” Wade sighed.  
Picking up the fallen crutch Gar held an injured eye and smiled at Wade. “Sorry. I let the despair of starvation, fear of zombies, and the dread of getting lost get to me.”  
Holding the crutch Wade rubbed his sore jaw. “I’m sorry too.”  
“Wait, where are you going Wade?”  
Turning, he grinned. “Well? Looking for water. You know where some is right?”  
Unfolding the map, Gar nodded. “Yes.”

  
  
  
“Set anchor, me mateys!”  
“Pat, we’re not sailing a ship.” J.P chuckled as his friend looked around with an invisible telescope. “I know, but I see water. Yarrh!”  
“Amazing!” A large river stretched through land. An old wooden bridge had a few planks missing but remained standing. On the other side was a patch of forest with tall trees. As the men gathered water Patrick enthusiastically observed the mountains. “This place will be perfect for our next base! There’s a water source, trees and minerals for crafting, mountains for defense, and there could be animals around for a food supply too.”  
“Where do we start first?”  
“Well…” Patrick calculated the best places to start building. “I’d like to construct the base and a small garden for food. Also, I want to create special knives and bows for hunting.”  
“That’s a lot of work.”  
“At night we can rest. Let’s not waste any daylight.”  
“Right. Just tell us what to do, Pat.”  
“The new base will be completed in no time!”

* * *


	10. x

Foundations are now set up. Beginning so many projects at once is a gamble, though necessary. Resources had to be carefully divided, gathered, and recounted. One man is stationed at base to guard it. Foraging must be done in pairs.  
  
Hour after hour their fortune started looking better.

  
A simple stone cottage (including traps) is suitable for now. In the future this tiny base will become a lasting stronghold. Few words are exchanged between the busy survivors. Even during meals they hardly spoke, wolfing down food before returning to work.  
  
Expanding the cottage was lower on the schedule.   
  
A farm, stronger defenses, and traps were high priority.

  
When night arrived the four happily sunk into comfy warm beds. It was a rare but a well-appreciated comfort. No longer did they have to endure drafty old sleeping bags or icy floors. Energy regenerated refreshingly like sunlight. 

  
Crafting traps, weapons, tools, and armor Patrick hardly left the smith shack attached to base. Unless there’s something important going on his main concern is preparing for any disaster. Hordes, raids, storms, any unseen danger. He’s more optimistic about the next horde outcome. Unlike a few weeks before he cooked hot meals every day, injuries fully healed, and no intruders were trying to ambush them.  
  
In three days a crowd of zombies would circle their fortress.

  
Brushing his brow, Patrick left a work bench. “I’ll check on the furnaces outside. The metal should be cool by now.” He found Gar stowing equipment and gloves in a shed, having completed some garden work.   
“How’s the construction going?”  
“Steadily. I put half the metal towards defenses. The rest I stored in an item trunk. Things are decent but not perfect yet. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

  
“Still…” Patrick admired the scenery around him. “You have to admit how impressive this is. Especially with just the four of us building.” Standing upon a hill at the top was their stone cottage. Underneath a moat surrounded it, filled with wooden and iron spikes. A bridge operated by a wheel connected to the woods beyond.

  
Mountains and vast forest would slow down a marching army of the undead. Tripwires and alarms were set up for raiders to detect soundless ambushes. There was even a small bunker for storage space.  
“Guys! Look what Wade and I found!”

  
The small hunting party returned. The deer was so big that both men struggled to carry it. “This’ll give us food for months!” Wade exclaimed. Everyone’s eyes glowed brightly. “What’re we waiting for?! Let’s get cooking!”  
Dante barked, happily agreeing.

  
“Remember to save some for winter.” Gar advised.  
“I know, I know.” Wade smiled. A tasty meal was only a short wait. The fumes reminded him of amazing fast food. Only if take-out still existed in a zombie apocalypse.

  
Wade elbowed J.P’s shoulder, the two offering to be cooks today. “I have great skill with a bow and arrow, huh?”  
Jeremy scoffed, yet flashed a joking grin. “Yeah but I spotted the deer with my awesome vision.”  
“Time for a feast! Isn’t it exciting, Dante?” Patrick asked while helping Gar set up the table.

  
A delicious buffet fit for kings was on the table. Corn, steamed potatoes, roasted deer, and bread cluttered the surface. Even desert is present; a bowl of candy at the center. Tall glasses collided in celebration and all four cheered. “Here’s to hopefully surviving the first year of the zombie apocalypse.”  
“And to an autumn and winter without starving.”  
“Well said! Maybe, eventually, we can play video games again one day.”

* * *

  


  
“Wake up.”  
“Huh?” Rolling over, Patrick saw Gar poking him. “Something wrong?” He asked yawning.  
Gar’s bright smile dispelled any of Patrick’s alarming worries.  
“Is it my turn to prepare breakfast?”  
“No. That’s not it. Follow me.”

  
Shuffling out a metal door the two traveled to the yard. Wade and Jay Par stood by quietly grinning. Two patches of earth lay before them. One was sprouting vegetables. The other, that’s a surprise.  
  
“Open your eyes, Pat!”  
  
A flower garden was revealed.

  
“This is fantastic!”   
“We worked all night on it.” J.P explained.  
“These little guys should last through autumn.” Gar added.  
“The flowers do make the apocalypse wasteland a little less gloomy.”  
“And, you know,” Wade shrugged. “Everything looks pretty for when the neighbors visit.”  
Laughter resounded among them.

  
The flowers weren’t jaw-dropping but their colorful, lively petals reminded Patrick of him and his friends. Every day granted uncertainty and testing challenges. Their situation seemed out of control, scary, and desolate. Yet, even in a decaying world, almost impossible to flourish in, the flora kept struggling, vibrant with strength to keep surviving. ‘We can still make it. Small steps are just as valuable as big victories.’

* * *

  


  
Tension weighed heavily, thick as metal in air. Preparing for the next horde everyone decided to stay indoors. Gathering volumes, board and card games, and other hobbies they sat around a table. Scraps of humanity (shiny trinkets, posters, books, and other things) decorated a small den. Wade, Gar, Patrick, and J.P weathered zombies like a causal stormy day. 

  
Most zombies didn’t get over the moat. They fell into a pit of spikes. Speared, the undead twitched and wheezed but remained fixed upon sharp stakes. Those that managed to crawl out scratched and clawed at stone exterior. “Should I get my bow?” Wade whispered over a billow of snarls.  
  
The morbid symphony became similar to pouring rain and thunder.

  
Counting steps Patrick placed his piece down. “No. If we’re quiet they’ll eventually wander elsewhere.”  
“We’ll do a thorough check after the horde dwindles.” Gar added.  
“Still,” Jeremy traded neon cash for a card. “It’s scary listening to zombies be so close.” Shuddering, he stared at silhouettes assembling at reinforced windows. “Do you think we did enough to not have any bust in? The zombies sound aggressive.”  
  
A few hours later silence returned.

  
Quietly the survivors cautiously swept through their stone cottage. The garden, tool shed, and furnaces were undamaged. Beyond that, zombies were snared in steel nets, bear traps, and the rest had vanished. “Our effort has really paid off, huh?” Wade grinned proudly. “This time we didn’t even have to fight any.”

  
Examining the darkness below, Patrick studied zombies stuck in the pit. Brows furrowed his eyes sparked with concern. “Um…guys?”  
Wade, Gar, and Jay Par stood at his side in a blink. “What’s up?”  
“They’re still alive.”  
Scratching his chin Gar responded, “Maybe zombies die slowly when stabbed. A few swings from melee weapons and some bullets are more efficient, right?”

  
“Are you sure?” J.P stared at the zombies, perplexed. “These guys have a lot of stakes in them. Also, some are still moving even with spears through their heads.”  
“I think zombies are getting stronger.”

  
“What?!” Wade faced Patrick, shock rippling on his features. “They’re decaying flesh. How is that possible?”  
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Gut instinct? J.P also said that they sound more aggressive. Zombies must be sturdier now.”  
“I wonder how…” Gar glanced at the twitching undead and felt a chill down his spine.

  
  
“Hello? Where are – oh. Hey Pat!” Jay Par carried food and drink to Patrick’s workbench. “I brought you dinner. The guys said you’d be in the armory.” His friend seemed to be in disarray. Hair unkempt, eyes sagging and dark, face drooping tiredly, and blueprints flooded the desk in an unorganized pile. “Why don’t you get some rest after you eat? I wouldn’t mind taking an extra shift.”

  
Patrick offered an unbreakable smile. “No, I’ll take watch tonight.”  
“Okay, if you say so. Gar, Wade, and I will be working outside until dark.” Turning to leave, J.P glanced at Patrick once more in worry. The other gave a friendly wave.

  
Plate empty, Patrick took a bag of beef jerky with him. Moving aside furniture he climbed down a creaky ladder. There was no time for breaks. Every second spent was more precious than shimmering riches in a pirate’s treasure chest. Taking bites of his snack he trekked into an unfinished cavern of earth.

  
Tools equipped, he chipped away at soil and minerals, clearing a path. A lantern provided light that banished ominous shadows. Fear prodded Patrick’s senses, looming just above panic. ‘Zombies are getting stronger, no doubt.’ He didn’t trust that their base would last forever. So, Patrick crafted a back-up plan, in case all other systems failed.  
  
It was vital that he completed these escape tunnels.

* * *


	11. xɪ

Snow softly fell from the sky. Patches of frost stretched across land and river, mixing with withered autumn leaves. Smoke bloomed into drifting grey clouds from furnaces. Gar diligently watched over his work. Hearing crunching footsteps behind him he spun around. “Where have you been, J.P?”

  
Holding up fresh game he grinned. “I checked the traps for food. Ever had fox before?”  
Gar’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Not really.”  
Jeremy chuckled. “Pat and Wade should be back with fish soon.”  
“Okay.” Swapping out work gear for winter clothes he added, “Follow me.”

  
Exiting the smith shack Gar lead Jay Par to the cramped underground storage room. Rows of shelves were empty. “Running low on food already?”  
“Yeah. Even with tiny rationing. I didn’t want anyone to panic but I figured I’d tell you about it.”  
“Did an animal break in?”  
“Couldn’t be. There’s no sign of any animal searching through our supplies.”

  
Gar gazed at J.P analytically, hoping to detect only truth. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”  
Jay Par shook his head, expressing bewilderment. “Nope. You got me. I have no clue.”  
“Well, the only other thing that could’ve possibly taken food while leaving everything orderly and intact is human.”  
Uneasy and astonished J.P asked, “You…you don’t think one of us is taking extra, do you?”  
  
For a moment nobody answered.

  
Icy puffs of breath formed in ringing silence. “I don’t know.” Gar stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. “But I’m going to find out. Winter is a cruel season, especially when living in the wilderness.”  
“And zombies.”  
“Zombies too.”

  
None complained about a meal of fox. Chewing, Gar considered the missing food reserves.   
“Do you think the cold will make zombies weaker?”  
Wade shrugged. “I saw a few on watch. It’s cold enough to slow them down but not completely stop them.”  
“If there’s a ton of snow I bet they’ll turn into ice statues.”  
“As long as Bigfoot doesn’t exist I’m sure we’ll make it through winter.” Patrick joked.

  
‘Nobody is acting nervously.’ Gar felt torn suspecting that his friends could be swiping extra food. But then, all anyone had to do was ask for more, no problem at all. ‘So where did the missing supplies go?’ Gar feared that a lone survivor was hiding in their fortress, stealthily out of their sights.

* * *

  
  


  
Adorned with heavy scarves and winter coats Wade chopped down trees. A warm fire and piping hot stew kept his mood buoyant. Patrick was further uphill also collecting firewood. Besides them stood a frozen labyrinth of zombies, the ice surfaces shimmering in orange sunset. Their grotesque disdainful expressions terrified Wade but he tried to ignore it. 

  
Together they piled timber onto a cart. Wade took a moment to rub his face, blinking away freezing tears. The survivor’s skin was turning apple-red from frigid winds. Grabbing the cart he looked around. “Pat? I need your help to lift this.”  
Distracted, Patrick looked into the far distance. “What’s that?”  
Marching up a small mound of snow Wade followed Patrick’s gaze.  
  
Two blurry shadows darted across the woodland.

  
From his viewpoint Patrick guessed that the unknown figures were about the size of coins. Just specks floating on the horizon. “Do you think those are zombies? Animals or people?”  
“I can’t tell.” Wade traveled back to the cart.

  
Lifting one side he said, “Let’s take a longer route back. Just in case, someone’s tailing us.”  
“Okay.” Carefully Patrick and Wade carried firewood through slippery roads. Frozen zombies became tiny landmarks, guiding them to their stone cottage.

  
“Are you sure?” Gar asked, voice cracking in shock.   
“It has to be one of those three options.” Dread simmered among them.   
“Not good. If it is people, that means a group could be camping by us.”  
“Great. What if the group is insane or a bunch of cannibals?”  
“Exactly. And it could be a large camp too.”

  
“Should we pack up and leave?”  
“And let all our hard work go to waste? No way.” Gar shook his head. “I refuse to lose everything again.”  
“Would it be better to risk seeing what they want? Perhaps we can afford to trade a few things.” Patrick suggested.  
“And if that fails? They could be lunatics.”  
“Should we wait then?” J.P asked. “Maybe they didn’t see us. The two figures could’ve been just animals.”  
“Yes. Let’s keep our distance for now.”  
“Best to study things from afar. I don’t think anyone of us wants to deal with raiders or an ambush.”

* * *

  
  


  
Pacing around base Wade completed his last rounds. Patrick was up, sipping coffee and reading a comic book. A single flowerpot decorated the table.  
“How’s it going?”  
Patrick smiled sadly. “I was only able to save four flowers.”  
“Ah well,” sleep tugged his eyelids, the lull hard to fight against. “Better than none. What about you J.P?”

  
Jeremy was doing push-ups to keep warm. “Cold. I’m always freezing!”  
“Yeah, winter is making me a little sluggish too.” Wade realized that harsh weather was wearing everyone down. Surviving a zombie apocalypse is tough but enduring a surging winter season with hardly any food was extremely difficult.

  
“Hey, we’ll make it through.” Wade reassured. “All of us have survived worse before.” A brief crestfallen pause filled the atmosphere, painful and uncertain.   
“I hope you’re right.”  
‘So do I.’ Wade wondered if a storm of unlucky events was approaching, or if they’d make it out of winter unscathed.

* * *


	12. xɪɪ

“Extra maps? What for?” Wade asks, stuffing a scroll in his bag.   
Gar interjected, “Can it wait? We have to check the traps before the blizzard arrives.”  
“Alright, alright.” Slipping on a few coats Wade followed an impatient Gar and excited corgi.

  
  
Outside a foreboding stormy sky mirrors frost barren lands below. Crunching snow echoes in quiet woodland. “Have you uh, seen anything wandering around lately?” Gar whispered.   
“Nobody.” Teeth chattering, Wade picks up the pace. “But I have been feeling uneasy.”

  
  
“I think everyone has –including me.” An empty trap. Not even mice or desperate rabbits tested the lethal snares. In fact, no animals have treaded among the wilderness for a while. Instead, a labyrinth of frozen zombies surrounds them.

  
  
Dante whimpered sadly. The pack looks like hungry and thin fauna he used to catch. Covered in snow crystals the corgi kept sniffing faint scent trails. If he brought food back his pack will be overjoyed! Tail wagging, Dante refused to let them down. Snout swinging up he pauses, smelling something new and undiscovered.

  
  
The dog’s ears tilt back and forth, carefully listening. Drawing his bow, Wade prepares to strike small game darting out from cover. Gar paces around, back turned, checking other traps. He warily avoids sharp icicles on branches above. Dante soundlessly pads towards a small glade.  
  
Past a cluster of ancient, towering trees, stands a large wolf.

  
  
Midnight fur, sleek muscles, and alert yellow eyes. Awed, the hunting party stays among the safety of trees. The wolf effortlessly tears a bear carcass apart. Steam billows from inside, bones and organs sliced by glinting razor teeth. Looking up, the animal spots Wade, Gar, and Dante.

  
  
Fur bristling, it snarls viciously. Fangs shimmer like daggers as the wolf’s snout curls. The humans step away. Bowing, it prepares to spring. Wade holds up his weapon readily.   
  
Wind whirls through the clearing.

  
  
Yowling in dismay the wolf bounds away and abandons its meal. Stunned, they stare at the odd spectacle incredulously. Thoughts scattered, it takes a moment for either to say a word. “Was…was that the thing you and Patrick saw a few days ago?”  
Wade slightly lowers his bow. “It might have been.”  
“The wolf seemed frightened.”  
“Probably because there’s another pack around?”  
Dante starts barking.

  
  
The corgi runs in circles, clearly troubled by something. Gar picks him up but Dante leaps from his arms and sprints up a hill and out of sight.   
“No! Come back!”  
Wade grabs Gar’s shoulder. “Wait,” he hisses. Tension and fear latches onto the man’s voice. They gaze up at the opposite tree line. “Do you hear that?”

* * *

  


  
  
  
“Gar and Wade haven’t returned yet. I’m worried.” Jeremy paces back and forth restlessly. Examining the sky he says, “A blizzard will be here soon. We should look for them.”  
“I agree. Something’s wrong. Let’s-”  
  
An inhuman scream impales the air.

  
  
Below, an enormous army of zombies gather. Hundreds sprint faster than their decaying legs should allow. In a few heartbeats many leapt over the moat unscathed. “Hurry! This way!” Patrick pushes a startled J.P into the cramped, cluttered shack. He tosses aside furniture carelessly.

  
  
“S-Shouldn’t we be barricading the door?” Jeremy asks, shocked. “Or be running far, far away from the horde?” Both men jump as if thunder cracked a hair’s width from them. Outside, a symphony of growls, screeching, and wheezing are coupled together with claws scratching the door.

  
  
Turning a wheel Patrick opens a steel lid. “Follow me!”  
The crowd floods in and step over each other in a powerful frenzy. Picking up a discarded chair J.P hurls it at the undead. The two descend a ladder. Rotting gnarled hands try to grasp the survivors. Quickly the cap snaps shut and locks.  
  
Afraid, pure panic overlays the atmosphere.  
  
The noise above is disconcerting.  
  
Briefly Jeremy gazes into unnerving darkness. Then he stares at Patrick, both of their eyes reflecting alarm. There is no choice but to go the opposite way. 

  
  
Above, the terrifying sounds of the undead fade. There is now just the soft pinging of shoes contacting metal rungs. To stave off dread Jay Par askes, “So this is what you’ve been working on, Pat?”  
“Uh-huh.”

  
  
Feet safely meet ground. Hugging the wall Patrick finds and lights a lantern. Jeremy sighs, relieved. Fighting zombies cloaked in darkness wouldn’t be fun at all. Heartbeat steady, he marches alongside Patrick down the thin cavern.

  
  
“Safety isn’t guaranteed. Our best tactic would be to have a plan B or C if things got bad.” He hands J.P a map. “Care to be my guide? Carrying a lamp, walking, and reading papers all at the same time isn’t an easy task. One of us has to keep guard just in case.”  
“Sure. Where does this tunnel lead anyway?”  
“Further into the forest.”

  
  
“Stop a second.”  
Jay Par pauses mid-step and watches his friend kneel, inspecting the earth. Placing the lamp down, Patrick scooped up soil with his hands. He returns with a med kit, expanded for extra storage. Deciding to rest, the two split small rations and water.

  
  
Eating slowly they savored every bite. Who knows how long they would stay down here? Any delay can make minutes stretch out into hours, hours into days. The two didn’t want to get stranded in claustrophobic space. It is best to get out into the forest as soon as possible. 

  
  
“What about Wade and Gar?”  
“I…I don’t know.” Taking a sip of water he hands the bottle to J.P. “I doubt they’d return to base. The horde appeared from the direction they went.”  
“Hopefully Wade and Gar saw the zombies and avoided them?” J.P stares at his food sadly.

  
  
“You gave them maps. They have to be okay, right?”  
Silence.  
Wistfully Patrick looks ahead into the shadows, uncertain himself.   
“Um, you’re the one who was taking extra food?”  
“Yeah.” He clears his throat as if to disrupt a gloomy atmosphere. ‘My friends are out in the woods, probably running for their lives.’ Rubbing his neck he explains, “I forgot to say anything. I was focused on getting these escape routes ready.”

  
  
J.P chuckled. “I’m so happy! Gar thought for sure somebody was stealing food. He guessed it was a stealthy survivor hiding by us.”  
Patrick smiled. “Gar never misses a thing. That would’ve been frightening if true. Thankfully that’s not what’s happening.”  
“Yeah. You saved us. We’d only get so far running. The zombies would’ve eventually caught up.”

  
  
Eyes shimmering in horror, Jay Par garbs Patrick’s arm. “Do you h-hear that?!”  
Turning he stands, gaze latching onto motionless night. A rumbling wave of the undead is charging towards them. The two bound away from danger.

  
  
Zombies are surreally fast. “Keep running!” Patrick shouts. Equipping a lighter and dynamite stick he prepares to throw it.   
“Are you crazy?! The explosions will cave-in the tunnel!”  
“It’s our only chance to escape! The horde will swarm us otherwise!” Lungs ablaze, gut in agony, their feet glide across earth. Though winded, stopping isn’t an option.

  
  
A tiny bright spark ignites. Patrick hurls the stick. A blast wave sends them flying. A mighty explosion makes the tunnel tremble. Chips of rock and stone fall around as they dive for cover. 

  
  
When the world became still they look back, coughing up dust. Metal supports hold strong, no cave-in. The path vanished behind a wall of collapsed stones. Brushing debris from his clothes Patrick helped J.P up. “Let’s go before anything else goes wrong.”

  
“Right.”

* * *

  


  
  
“Wait. Wait.” Gar tilts his head and backs up warily. Keeping eyes on the hill his voice quivers. “Wade…”  
“Yeah?”  
Fear latches onto their bones and stomach. Neither needs to speak. Sight alone provided how bad this simple hunting expedition is becoming. Gar gets a map from his pocket. Wade fires a few arrows at the gathering crowd.

  
  
An army of zombies assemble upon the hill. Chilling, icy winds drift past. The gusts lack soothing quality. “Gar…”  
“Hold on! I almost got the map-”  
“We have to run!”  
“Okay! Okay! Once we make it to the tree line,” both men step back slowly. Eyes wide with alarm they hold their breath fearfully. “We’ll go to the base.”  
  
Every second a few more trickle up the hill.

  
  
When Wade’s foot brushed gnarled roots he pivoted on his heels. “Run for it!” Countless zombies descend, a mighty surging waterfall crashing into the glade below. An otherworldly scream sends the men sprinting faster. Ahead is the base –and safety.

  
  
Turning, the force swings around like a giant serpent. Zombies trap Wade and Gar from the side and behind. Changing direction they are lead back to open fields. To evade the horde they take giant leaps through heavy snow. Out of breath and adrenaline fading the men struggle to keep a steady pace. “I…I can’t go…any farther.” Wade wheezed.

  
  
Tearing open a map, Gar reads the weathered page. Blue outlines mark winter wilderness. He tugs Wade’s shoulder. “Get up! I found a shortcut!” Pulling themselves free from packed snow they run again.

  
  
Darting between corpses, Wade and Gar enter a fray. Many zombies jump, jaws open and claws swinging. Slippery ground gave the survivors an advantage. Gar ducked as one leapt over him. Teeth snap inches from Wade’s arm as he slid.

  
  
They finally reach a landmark. Surrounded, it is essential to escape. Brushing snow away Gar finds a door. Hands shaking he turns the wheel, yanking open the lid, he jumps into the chute. Grabbing Wade’s leg he dragged him to shelter. Screaming, they stab zombie limbs sticking out of the gap. Together Wade and Gar seal the door shut.

  
  
Withering from shock and horror they listen to eerie howling. The clamor sounds like a muffled thunderstorm. A fit of nervous giggles echo in the metal chute. “That was close. Going through an infested apartment and facing a giant zombie is one thing.” Wade shakes his head. “But that…”  
“What an adventure, huh?”

  
  
Staying silent the survivors arrive in the shadowy depths. Drifting to a wall Wade lights a lantern. Gar studies the map. Among blue landmarks there are also red X’s. “I see. Patrick set up supplies down here, buried in different places.” He sighed. “And I thought some unknown stranger was bunking in our base.”  
“At least we have a plan now. Lead the way.”

  
  
Just like their friends, the two sit and eat. Gar seems distraught.   
“What’s wrong?”  
“I wonder if Dante is okay. And if J.P and Patrick are alive.”  
Holding his gaze, Wade’s voice rings with seriousness. “They must be alive. I refuse to believe anything else.”

  
  
Standing, anger fuels Gar’s rigid pacing. His gut told him to trust Wade’s rationality, but his mind has too many doubts. “You saw the zombies a week ago in the pit. Pat and J.P are right. The undead are getting stronger!”

  
  
“Gar-”  
“What if they didn’t see the horde until too late?! Waves are lasting longer and longer too.”   
“Gar, listen to me-”  
“And because zombies are more durable over time that means they can easily break into a base. We have to go back and see if our friends are okay! What if Pat and J.P need our help?”

  
  
“Stop!” Wade grabs Gar’s shoulders. “Don’t do anything reckless!”  
Glaring at him he responds, “We can’t leave our friends to die!”  
“I know, I know!” Wade shouts.

  
  
Suddenly both realize that they’re shaking. Not from rage but distress. “I want to go back too but we both know how dangerous that’d be. You said waves are lasting longer. The zombies standing a few feet above us could stay all day.”

  
  
Taking a deep breath Wade adds, “I’m sure Patrick was prepared for this. For now we focus on getting out of here. Okay? Understand?” Two pairs of eyes reflect identical emotion, sorrow. Neither could do a thing to help their friends who could be in peril. All they could do is escape from the zombie horde.  
  
In earth are buried stashes of medical equipment, flares, rations, extra bullets, and dynamite sticks.

  
  
“It’s all we can do right now.”  
Gar sighs and ran fingers through his hair, frustrated. “Yeah. Let’s follow the path out of here then. Who knows how long we have until something breaks in?” The men listen to faint disquieting zombie noise hovering just above them. Speedily they trek down the road.

* * *


	13. xɪɪɪ

At the top of the ladder Patrick takes a deep breath. Gathering newfound confidence he opens the bunker door. Ducking, he looks below and says, “All clear!” Keeping low to the ground they crawl out of the chute and into an open field. There is falling snow and a darkening sky.  
  
An icy ruthless wind whirls past, piercing heavy winter clothes.

  
  
Shivering, the two march. Patrick loads his pistol while J.P looks around expecting to see zombies any minute. “This is unfamiliar land form here on out. We’ll have to be extremely cautious.”  
Jay Par nods. “I’ll watch your back. Let’s hope we can crash somewhere before the storm hits.”  
  
Staggering through mounds of snow the two keep going in a single direction.

  
  
“How far did we travel?” J.P wheezed.  
Patrick turned. “Are you okay?” Usually they aren’t opposed to long walks. However, the snow weighs them down. “Do you need a break?” He asks, voice muffled by a scarf.  
“No. I can keep going.”

  
  
Eyes glued to the horizon, Patrick searches for danger. He hardly realizes one foot hovering in air.   
“Watch out!” J.P yanks him backwards. Packed snow catches Patrick safely.   
“There’s a cliff that swoops down.”  
“I see now,” he nervously chuckles. “Thanks.”  
“It looks like it goes down for a while. I think now is a good time to rest. Should we make a fire?”  
Patrick stares at dark swirling clouds. “The storm might give us cover. Sure.”

  
  
Eating a hot meal restores lost energy. Trekking side to side the two notice that the cliff stretches for miles. “How about sliding down? It’s not a drop.”  
“Won’t it be risky because of the approaching storm?”  
“You’re right. I guess we’ll be camping.”

  
  
Huddling by a boulder and some trees Patrick observes the sky again. Will the storm pass over them and start somewhere else?  
“Do you see that?”  
A giant dark silver cloud hovers at ground level. Narrowing his eyes, Patrick studies the abnormal mist. Heavy snow makes it difficult to see any details.

* * *

  
  
“Did the horde finally disappear?” Wade’s gaze sweeps frigid landscape. It’s lifeless besides frosty foliage. Crisp, withered flora springs from snow undisturbed. “Everything is too calm.”

  
  
“I don’t know. At least we have weapons if a horde sneaks up on us.”  
“Let’s go in uh…this direction.” The men put distance between escape tunnel and woodland. Snacking on energy bars they march into unknown territory.  
  
A thunderous pop fractures the air. 

  
  
Gunshots. Instantly Wade and Gar share astonished glances. “Is that Patrick and J.P?!” Abandoning caution they sprint towards the noise. Both survivors refuse to slow their frantic pace.

  
  
Leaning against a tree, Wade catches his breath. Risking a look he sees a glade with two boulders. Waves of zombies are scaling a cliff, their decaying flesh somehow immune to sticking to cold surfaces. Bunching together the undead ran at two individuals. “Is that-”  
“We have to help them!”

  
  
“Switch!” Patrick yelled. Backing away he reloads a pistol. Jeremy fires shotgun rounds into the horde, barely managing to cut numbers. A few zombies fall but even more replace them. Equipping a handful of fire crackers Patrick tosses some at a boulder.

  
  
The pack splits. “I see! They’re leading them!”  
“On three we’ll jump in. I’ll provide cover.” Wade informs while preparing an arrow.  
Gar nods. “We have to kill as many zombies as we can before the storm.”

  
  
Swapping to a scythe Patrick twirls, slicing zombies. The undead that drifted away are returning. Blood coats snow a deep red. The fighters step warily, fearful of tripping. Like a dance Patrick dodges swiping claws and flashing teeth. He leads a fraction of zombies from J.P.

  
  
Fire crackers hit another boulder. J.P runs to the opposite side, resting before jumping back into battle again. The strategy is working so far. Split up the group and diminish them little by little. If too many surround one person, the other made a noisy distraction. Thankfully zombies can only focus on one thing at a time.  
  
A loud rumble echoes in the glade.

  
  
‘Is the storm starting?’ Jaw dropping, Patrick sees Gar running at zombies with a chainsaw. Arrows arc over treetops to spear strugglers. Wade trades his bow for a bat full of nails. A section of the horde is wiped out. He offers Gar protection.  
  
Though sharing blissful smiles there is no time to celebrate a wonderful reunion.

  
  
Powerful winds dash across the forest bringing hail. Snow clouds their vision, everything becoming unclear. Pushed towards a boulder, Patrick endures a strong gust. He watches in terror as zombies march on, unaware of him standing just besides them.   
A growl startles him.

  
  
Sluggishly backing away Patrick draws his pistol. It rattles in his hands as he trembles, scared. The zombie is close enough to bite his arm or leap on him. ‘If I miss this shot it’s over for me.’ There’s no time to unsheathe another weapon. ‘This is bad!’

  
  
The cliff is inches behind him. He is cornered. Aiming, Patrick prepares to fire at the zombie. The being opens its decaying jaws, displaying yellow teeth, moldy flesh, and insects. The stench is worse than rotten eggs, spoiled milk, or stinky cheese.

  
  
“Oh no! Where’s –Wade! J.P!” Gar’s call is unanswered. He is the only one able to see past wild drafts of ice. Snow exploded as a zombie attacked. The pistol fires and Gar sees two figures roll down the curved cliff.

  
  
“Guys! Slide down the cliff, now! Run for it!” The order is heard, barely louder than whistling winds and zombie clamor. Adrenaline kicks in and powers the survivors’ panic. Bobbing through lashing zombies Gar, Wade, and J.P descend to lower landscapes. The storm relentlessly pushes them backwards into danger. Yet, everyone eventually made it down.

  
  
Avoiding zombies dropping from above, they dug into the snow searching for their friend. “I found him!” Wade brushes frost aside hurriedly. Beneath winter powder is Patrick. Shaking, he is entangled with a dead zombie. Long scratch marks ran from arm to chest, vividly red in a pale winter palette.

  
  
Everyone tore sticky, decaying, frozen flesh off of their injured friend. The zombie is brittle and snaps apart easily like branches. J.P helps Patrick up and carries the confused man in his arms. The others follow behind, ragged wounds and limping slowing them down. From afar the horde builds up speed and ferocity.

  
  
“I-I’m too injured to k-keep going.” Patrick mumbled. “I’m weighing you guys down.”  
“Are you kidding?! We’re not leaving you behind!” Jeremy declares.  
“Besides,” Wade huffed. “All of us have gained injuries from this fight. We’d all have to stay.”

  
  
The next patch of woodland is too far. None could outrun the zombie horde for that long. Carefully placing Patrick down on the ground they turn to face the army. Shifting his feet nervously Jeremy asks, “So is this the end?”  
“I…I guess so.” Wade replies. “I’m going to give it my all! No holding back!”  
Gar chuckled bitterly, crestfallenly. Cruel reality crashed in with unbelievable force, just like this storm. “I’ll miss you guys. Let’s…let’s do this!”  
  
Could they defeat the zombies?  
  
Failure seemed inevitable.

  
  
No matter how gallant or extraordinarily they fight, the odds are against them. Yet, the survivors refuse to cower. Though sacred, they have each other’s backs. Courage flourished. Dedication and strength are brilliantly alight.

  
  
Two cars outfitted and upgraded plunge out of the woods. Gliding on snow the vehicles parked, making a barricade between survivors and zombies. One stationed closer to the four looked like a metal armored beast. Stunned, they recognize familiar faces. Sean, Mark, Bob, and Dan display bright grins.

  
  
“It can’t be!”  
“Wade?! Gar, J.P, and Patrick too?!”  
“We never thought we’d see you guys again since the outbreak!”  
“Guys! They’re injured. Let’s get ‘em back to base and fast!” Mark interrupted. “Dlive and his crew can lead the horde away.”

  
  
“Dante?!” Gar hugs the corgi and cried gleefully.  
“The little guy led us here.” Bob smiled.   
Sean sat in the back seat with Wade who attended to Patrick’s wounds. The vehicle is renovated to a rescue truck of sorts. “We figured he was trying to get help for his pack or owner. So, all of us decided to travel and see.”

  
  
“You’re all in bad shape. The storm is salt on the wounds along with that horde!” Sean exclaimed.  
“Wait. You’re the people we saw! By the mountains!”  
“Small world, huh?” Dan joked.  
Bob turns to Wade. “You have a base there?”  
“It’s a cottage,” J.P explains. “Had traps and everything. The place got overrun by zombies.”

  
  
“I’m sorry you lost it.” Sean says. “I hope our base is suitable for you guys.”  
“How many people do you have?”  
“So far thirteen total. All of us, plus a crew Dlive found before we met up.”  
“Accommodations will be made. Rest until we get there.”

* * *

  
  
Music is absent from the car ride. It’s strangely peaceful. The storm’s ominous wail is softy muted as it brushes the windows. Bundles of blankets are given and adorning the survivors. Sean promises to get their injuries fixed up when they arrive at the stronghold.

  
  
Dan and Mark hum a tune while Wade snores. J.P talks to Bob while helping Sean heal Patrick. It almost reminds Gar of camping. His eyes flutter shut as he falls asleep, a tail-wagging Dante in his arms. The danger they had been in now seems as if it had happened ages ago.

  
  
The car’s headlights flickered, signaling a message. Mark waits for a response. A woman and a man pull open a gate. Another light flashes from a watch tower. The vehicle crawls into a spacious garage, parking. 

  
  
From outside the survivor’s jaws drop at how impressive the base is. It looks like a miniature castle. Probably an old cabin or mansion that had been abandoned. Sean and Dan guide everyone to a medical barrack stationed in a yard, with a generator attached. Inside it’s a thin, long metal container decorated with bunks and medical equipment.

  
  
Bob serves everybody soup and grins at their joyous faces. Dlive returns and sits among friends. Each person swaps stories –bad, good, and dull. The survivors express gratitude, thrilled to have evaded a zombie horde. Wade, J.P, Gar, and Patrick may have been through hell, lost their base, and almost been defeated, but they’ve endured the impossible.   
  
All four men now have a new home with familiar faces and safety. 

  
  
Warmth, food, friends, and shelter. Their troubles discarded, they celebrated a hearty reunion. For now the zombie apocalypse becomes manageable, livable even. Distant is the dread and peril. Raising bowls and glasses they cheer. “Here’s to living through many more years of the zombie apocalypse!”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! I hope you've enjoyed this book just as much as I've had fun writing it!


End file.
